


The Tale of the Trio: Hungry Like the Wolf

by Nievelion



Series: Different Tales, Different Lessons [6]
Category: Kung Fu Panda (Movies)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Buddhist Character, Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Forgiveness, Friendship, Gen, Invasion, Loss of Parent(s), Past Abuse, Redemption, Sister-Sister Relationship, Tragedy, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 61,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21603595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nievelion/pseuds/Nievelion
Summary: Crane, Mei Ling, and Wu Jia Walk the Empire to do good deeds and help Jia atone. The three finally travel west to prevent the invasion of a warlord seeking revenge for Tai Lung's rampage, with the aid of the Kung Fu Council, Jiao Shen (a good guy in this 'verse), and an itinerant monk, while Jia struggles with the possibility of extending forgiveness to her eldest sister.
Relationships: Crane/Mei Ling (Kung Fu Panda), Mei Ling & Wu Jia, Po/Wu Jia (OC), Tai Lung/Tigress, Wu Jia & Wu Xiu, Wu Jia & Wu Xuan
Series: Different Tales, Different Lessons [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1529432
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This vignette is dedicated to my friend, reader, and reviewer Samadhir, since a good portion of it would never have come about if he hadn't helped me look at things a bit differently, see something I hadn't addressed.

The heat of the cloudless summer day had finally begun to fade from burning intensity to a soothing, balmy warmth, and in the gardens of the Jade Palace, Wu Jia hummed to herself as she lay on her back in the lush, soft grasses, enjoying the breeze that swirled about the peak as it ruffled her fur. It was so strange; when she'd been here last, her only thought and focus had been to train and spar in the kwoon—admittedly, because she'd needed some form of exertion to work through her...still quite insistent desires, and because she'd longed to pit herself against each of the temple's kung fu masters ( _especially_ Tigress).

And now, even four days after the wedding, two after that disastrous but hilarious dinner at Ping's, the striped feline and her spotted stud of a husband were once again ensconced in the nuptial chamber for yet another bout of honeymoon bliss, so the training hall was quite open to her.

But instead, this time, all she found herself wanting to do was find somewhere full of peace, beauty, and natural wonder, somewhere to relax, to enjoy herself, to think. And she had to admit she probably couldn't have found a better place to do so in the Valley. This particular corner of the gardens was not flat but marked by a series of low embankments and rises so that it stood somewhat higher than the rest of the surrounding verdure. The landscape allowed for numerous streams and bubbling brooks to flow and meander throughout its beds of brightly-colored, heady-scented blooms, their courses carrying them in multiple low waterfalls of various heights.

The nearest, which her particular hill overlooked, gurgled and murmured in endless chatter over the smooth, moss-covered river rocks, although just out of her sight she could hear other waterways which, by the sound of it, had much more significant cataracts descending down the steeper slopes of rocky shelves. Over her head rose the trunk of a large, verdant willow tree, its countless feathery fronds dancing and shifting in the wind so as to alternately form a curtain screening her away from the world and part to expose her private sanctuary to view.

As the sun began to set over the western ridgeline, turning the sky to vivid shades of ocher and orange, she could already see the first stars appearing in its darkening expanse like jewels and crystals, while on the air she could catch the mingled fragrances of peonies and orchids, camellias and narcissus. It was truly an idyllic, majestic, yet intimate place.

The snow leopardess frowned a bit to herself and let out a small sigh. Why did she require such soothing surroundings, such calm and serene isolation? She knew why. Part of it was her recent travels with Crane and her half-sister; on the one paw, she had witnessed plenty of gorgeous natural splendor in the rich and waterfed provinces to the east and the south, whether in other manicured gardens and parks or out in the breathtaking, untamed beauty of the empire, while on the other paw she had also experienced so much pain and sorrow, seen such cruelty and greed and contempt for life, that a very large part of her rebelled against it...longed to find such a place to immerse herself in. Somewhere she could hide, could pretend even for a few moments that no matter what civilized beings could wreak upon the world around them in the name of pride and power, there would always be somewhere that was safe and protected such as this.

But it was more than that too. It was something she had first found herself contemplating—idly, playfully, without much thought or depth beyond mere amusement and the first blush of infatuation—over four months ago on this very mountain. It was something she'd been forced to reconsider after being reminded, painfully, of just what her fate might be if she allowed herself to be a pawn and possession of disgusting, arrogant fools like Kang and his bullyboys.

It was something she'd turned over in her mind yet again, like a gemstone with hidden facets she'd just noticed and wanted exposed to the light, after her fun, enjoyable, but ultimately fruitless pursuit of Jiao Shang. And it was something she'd seen in yet another light after traveling back through Guangdong and Hunan to attend Tai Lung and Tigress's wedding...and there been confronted by a whole new view, a deeper connection, another possibility that had shaken a teapot in her hand, so unusual, momentous, and affecting as it was.

Po. That sweet, adorable, bumbling, utterly childlike and overly-excitable panda who had managed to land himself in front of Oogway's pointing finger to become the Dragon Warrior. Someone she'd promised, long ago, to look after and protect to the best of her ability...but whom she was now regarding quite differently indeed.

Jia smiled fondly to herself, even as she felt a twinge of doubt and uncertainty deep down within that became more intense with each passing moment. In so many ways, he was nothing like her—brave and heroic when she had been a craven villain, unwavering in his determination to do right and help any who needed it, fulfilling a lifelong dream but in a way even he could never have imagined, sweet and kind where she had only been vapid and wryly sardonic.

But in other ways, they were so alike...somehow retaining innocence in the face of the world's harsh reality, optimistic at heart despite what pain and hardship they'd endured, insatiably curious and eager to learn, and above all, with such strange and childishly hilarious senses of humor! She still remembered how hard she'd had to struggle, during their first meeting by that lake east of Yunxian, to keep battling as Xiu and Chao had commanded rather than collapsing on the ground in a fit of wild, hysterical giggles.

There was no one like him in all of China. She wondered if there was another like him in the world. He made her feel happy as she had not in decades, gave her hope she still had a future. She knew what the woman who had given birth to her would think of him, especially as a romantic prospect; after seeing her _real_ mother welcoming Crane into the family with open arms, she also knew what Xu Mei would think. What Chun would think, she had not a clue, although having at least one of them in the position to fulfill their oath to Bao would surely please her, at least. And of course Mei Ling would be ecstatic—from what she'd said, she'd loved the giant panda like a brother from day one, and wanted him to be happy as much as she did Jia, now.

Yet she still couldn't help but wonder. Would even someone like Po ever accept her? Could she ever, truly, be forgiven for all she had done, or allowed to happen? What business did she have indulging in anything beyond the pleasures of the flesh, in daring to dream...to face the great and likely risk that she could never be loved that way, would only be rejected, hurt, alone? Yes, it would be far better to only consider taking Po to her bed, if anything at all were to happen between them. He was as kind and good as Shang had been, but didn't have his past history, or choice in partners, nor was he off the market. If she only viewed him in such a manner, perhaps there she could find even a small scrap of the companionship she sought.

And either way, once she'd shown him the moves, she had a feeling he'd at least make quite a good lover...

She still had a secretive smile on her face when she suddenly caught the smell of her sister on the wind as the mountain cat approached up the pebbled path that wound up toward the willow tree. Forcing herself to dispel any pained and self-recriminating thoughts, she turned just as her half-sister padded silently over the small brow of the hill. For a moment the beige-furred feline hesitated, giving her a penetrating look; then she continued on to her side.

"Hey, Jia. What're you doing, sis?" Mei Ling asked, almost nonchalantly, as she approached.

"Just thinking about Po," the former Wu Sister answered, almost in a purr.

Mei Ling's face spread into a gleeful expression, which startled her. Jia was normally inclined to gossip about the men she fancied, but she had been oddly (for her) discreet about her affections for the Dragon Warrior the first time they'd been in Hubei. At least she thought she'd been. "Picturing him in his wedding attire and thinking of a happy future?"

_Was I really that obvious?_ "Actually," she drawled, as frank and light as she could manage, "I was wondering what he was packing downstairs."

Mei's eyes opened wide as she abruptly halted in her tracks, and in spite of her moroseness of a few moments ago, the snow leopardess couldn't help grinning rather smugly. It was clearly not the answer she had been expecting, even if it was rather in her sister's character. _Gotcha, sis._ The mountain cat gave her a mock reproachful look. " _Jia_."

"I _also_ think of other things, Mei Mei," Jia said crisply, with an elegant lift of her nose. Since her sister seemed to have picked up on her interest, and far better than anyone at the Jade Palace let alone Po himself— _The cat's out of the bag now, hee!_ —she saw no point in trying to conceal the rest. Besides, she'd sworn in the Vault of Heroes that she'd never keep secrets from Mei again. "I've often thought about what kind of dad he might be, how he'd feel about me continuing in my line of work, even a little...whether he might forgive me for everything I've done." She lowered her eyes sadly; she couldn't bear to look at her sibling as such terrible memories returned to haunt them both. "Do you think he would, Mei?"

After several moments that felt unnaturally long to her, she heard Mei scoff furiously under her breath, and when she dared to look up she saw that the mountain cat's face had softened, even as her eyes flashed with consternation. "Of _course_ he would! How can you think anything else?! From what you told me, he _said_ he would, after he fought you three on Wu Dan. Anyway, Po's a very forgiving person. It's his nature. He forgave _Tai Lung_ , for Shang Ti's sake, and your past isn't _half_ as sordid as his."

"Tai Lung is also a man. They're held to different standards than we are," Jia replied sagely, unable to keep the trace of bitterness from her voice.

"And Po isn't like most men in that way, and you know it." Mei crossed her arms defiantly over her chest as she settled in to defend the panda, and even though she didn't want to accept her sister could be right, Jia couldn't help but admire her all over again. "Has he ever given you any indication he was so traditionally pigheaded?"

Jia smiled happily for the first time since her thoughts had taken such a dark turn, and she stretched her arms back behind her as she settled more into the still-warm grass. "No, no, and no. He's always been a perfect gentleman, even when we were fighting each other. Would you believe he apologized to me, even as he was tossing a barrage of apples at me? Or when he paralyzed me at Wu Dan? He's a man of quality. So, see? I _do_ think of other things than sex."

She paused, but couldn't hold it back; it was just too natural to her, and she didn't want to think any further on what Mei was suggesting. That way lay confusion, rejection, sorrow...and worst of all, hope. "I just so happened to be thinking of _those_ attributes of his when you came over and asked me that fateful question! He does have pretty big feet and paws. And you know what they say about the size of a guy's—"

"Yes, Jia. _Thank_ you, Jia," her sister interrupted emphatically, then added in an undertone: "Whether or not I wanted it."

"Oh, you're not fooling anyone, Miss Prim," she retorted. "I'm _sure_ you've thought of what Jien is like that way." Again she paused, letting her patented predatorily playful smile cross her face; she knew immediately from the look on her sister's face that she knew what it meant, and that she, Jia, was right. "Unless you already know."

" _That_ is none of your business, sis." Mei Ling aimed a pointing finger at her.

"Whether you've thought of him, or actually seen it?" the ex-assassin said coyly, refusing to let up and having absolutely no discomfort in pushing those limits to do so.

The mountain cat stood quietly for a few moments, her face inscrutable as her arm lowered back to her side. Then, to Jia's surprise, although her tone was as lofty and serious as ever, there was definitely a naughty glint in her brown eyes. "My imagination can be just as fruitful as yours, I assure you." Now it was her turn to give a secretive smile—and relieved her distracting line of thought seemed to have thrown Mei off the subject, the spotted cat began to laugh uproariously.

By the time their mirth had subsided and both of them had lapsed into a companionable silence again, Jia was feeling much better despite nothing truly being resolved, either in her life or her mind and heart. Perhaps Mei had reassured her more than she realized, or perhaps it was simply being reminded that after fifteen years apart, the mountain cat loved her again (or always had, but repressed it until the truth was revealed), was willing to stand by her, believed in her. With that being the case, she could deal with the uncertainty of Po's feelings or any future they might have together, as such things would only be dealt with in time. Plus, if Mei believed she had a shot with the panda, who was she to dispute it?

Letting out a sigh of satisfaction, the snow leopardess sat up from the grass, then leaned back against the trunk of the willow. As she gestured her sister over and patted the ground beside her, she said amiably, "C'mon and sit down, sis. Watch the stars come out with me. It's been a beautiful day, it's going to be a gorgeous night, and from here on out, it's gonna be clear skies and smooth sailing from now on and forever!"

Just as Mei Ling (with a lopsided smirk) was about to do as she'd asked, there came a sudden sound to disturb the otherwise peaceful and silent twilight shadows. The sound of scuttling feet, rustling clothing, and panting breaths as someone came rushing along the path through the gardens from the direction of the temple. The mountain cat looked over her shoulder, and after a look of recognition crossed her face, she turned back and crossed her arms severely. "You just _had_ to say it, didn't you?"

She was about to ask what she meant—despite the overall amused exasperation in her voice, the look of troubled concern on Mei's face made her wonder—when their visitor arrived. As easily identified by his golden robes and _mao_ as his harried expression and constantly ruffled feathers, the palace messenger goose, Zeng, seemed in an inordinate hurry even for him...yet also so distraught he couldn't take to the skies to get to them faster (or hadn't even thought of it). He was also bearing a parchment scroll that had apparently already been opened, since it was loose and flapping in the breeze. "Mei Ling! Master Mei Ling, thank the gods you're here! And you too, Mistress Jia!"

Jia blinked in shock; not that Zeng had any particular reason to be afraid of or bothered by her, now that she had been pardoned, except for her reputation as a Wu Sister—she certainly hadn't done anything to him during Heian Chao's siege. But by the same token, she didn't think he would even notice her, either. Certainly not to give her a message! And why would he be seeking _them_ out and not Shifu, Tai Lung, or Po? Even Tigress made more sense…granted, both she and her new husband were a bit occupied at the moment, but for something as apparently urgent as this, surely an exception could be made...

Why, she didn't know (beyond her usual ability to empathize with others and befriend them seemingly with no effort at all), but Mei was already kneeling to the bird, paw extended to rest comfortingly on his shoulder as he came to a halt before them, and when she spoke it was as if to an old friend. "Hey...hey...slow down, Zeng, it's okay. You found us. What is it? Whatever it it is, we'll take care of it."

Zeng swallowed hard, flapped his wings a few more times, then seemed to recover what little dignity and poise he possessed, but his hat still trembled on his head a little as he handed over the message scroll. "I hope so. I dearly, truly hope so. This...I just can't believe it. Nothing like this has happened in the empire since the days of my father…"

Mei Ling took the scroll and read it...paused...then read it again. Jia watched her face go absolutely white, even as her jaw clenched until it shook and her eyes blazed with fury. "You're right. Nothing like this has been seen—in China's enemies, _or_ in its leaders." The scroll, which had looked about to fall from nerveless fingers, was instead gripped tightly in her paw before she thrust it at Jia to read.

Something about those words disturbed her even more than the look on Mei's face, reminded her with extreme, stomach-turning distress of the sorts of acts Xiu had committed in their early days and her half-sister's reaction to them. When she finally brought herself to look at the message, she finally understood. Even if she had no idea _why_.

"Does this mean...what I think it means?" Zeng stammered softly, his words almost lost on the wind of a night that no longer felt comforting and warm, but shadowy and chill.

"Yeah," Jia said sadly. "If we don't put a stop to this somehow—and _not_ the way the Kung Fu Council wants us to...we'll be at war."

* * *

_~Three months earlier~_

The warlord stared down, unblinking, unmoving, no emotion betrayed by his countenance save for the twitch and spasm of one cheek muscle and the heat smoldering in his deep golden eyes as he fixed them on the map spread out on the table before him. His canine nostrils flared as he inhaled the dusty dry air of the desert hardpan that wafted in through his tent flap, his pointed ears twitched as he caught the faint sounds in the distance—marching feet, the crackle of fire, and even farther away, the clash of metal and the screams of the dying. But he paid them no moment...all that mattered was the notations made on the chart.

Troop movements. Food and especially water sources. The locations of various garrisons set in place decades ago to keep watch over the Mongol hordes (and the Huns before them) so as to prevent their falling upon an undefended empire—including, of course, the many towers and checkpoints along the Great Wall that wound eastward, through Gansu and toward Beijing, all along the southern Mongolian border. And especially the roads, heading southward through mountain passes, forests and fields and rivers, until they reached the isolated, helpless settlement that was his target, protected only by the landscape surrounding it.

Clenching his jaw, he flexed one heavy fist until he heard the knuckles crack...but it was not hatred or fury he felt, at least not solely. It was eagerness...excitement...and a certain twisted glee that began to grow stronger and fiercer the longer he contemplated his future course. _At last. After all these years. No more cowering. No more cringing. No more biding my time while gathering allies, educating myself, obtaining all the pieces of my plan. He **will** be mine. He will know pain, he will know fear, he will know what it is to lose everything dear to him—though I doubt anything has value to him except his own pelt. _

He smiled darkly. That would be his, too. Its shining silver, with such a thick exotic pattern of prolific spots, would look perfect adorning his wall.

Forcing himself to wrench his eyes away from the map and wheel away from the table, he turned to face the square of sunlight that opened out onto the arid landscape that stretched endlessly along the southern slopes of the Tian Shan. Although he focused every ounce of willpower and self-control, he could not stay still for more than a few moments, however, before he wheeled about again on one booted paw and began to pace...slowly, purposefully, but with increasing impatience.

How long had it been now? Only two or three hours since his men had begun their foray, wave after wave of well-trained, wickedly-armed, hard-bitten warriors from the steppes now falling upon the towns and villages of Xinjiang; between the peaceful, steady influx of merchant traders and travelers along the Silk Road and the conquests of Yunus Khan that had ended several decades before, the people had become complacent, easy pickings. And what military presence and alertness there had been in the region was all focused in the east, where the Oirats were constantly skirmishing and raiding along the border.

His army had already easily poured through Gaochang Pass, leaving the town of Luntai at its northern mouth in smoldering, crumbled ruins, and he knew it would not be long now before the same fate had been dealt to Turfan. Then the way would be open...then, he would also receive the reports of the scouts he had sent at the same time to reconnoiter and spy wherever possible.

But it was more than this. How long had it also been since he had begun gathering his forces, hiring the mercenary Uyghurs and the Mongols of the Kazakh Khanate to the west, finalizing his plans and gaining the equipment and supplies needed for this bold and dangerous venture? Six months? No, closer to a year.

And how long had it been before that...years of growing up alone, without family, without love, with nothing but his own intelligence and wits, years after he had fled the only home he had ever known? Nearly two decades now, and though there had been those who took him in out of kindness, they were not of his blood. They could never replace what he had lost. What had been stolen from him, literally ripped away before his horrified, tear-blinded young eyes.

All those years, since in that moment of grief, rage, and determination, he had sworn the oath that one day he would have his revenge. Years in which he had made his way westward, surviving only by cleverness, thievery, the aid of strangers, sheer luck and (he was certain) the will of the gods. Years in which he had trained, honed his body into a machine as unyielding, powerful, and destructive as any with which he had armed his battalions. Years in which he had sought out every scrap of information he could find that would aid in his plans—the martial arts, swordcraft and other weapons skills, history and mathematics, even the sciences of the Persians even farther west. He had learned it all, devouring everything he came across, voracious as he was for the knowledge that would give him what he craved.

Finally, all had been in readiness. At last, having absorbed all he could, mastered and even surpassed the teachings of his _Usatedha_ in Kabul and Samarkand, he had gathered his forces. Between the savings he had obtained from his years of larceny, a small inheritance from a childless Tibetan who had taken him in until dying of old age, and a side trade in the merchant life, he'd been able to hire a significant number of mercenaries—there were always those who eyed the rich lands of others for conquest, particularly where memories of past warlords were still fresh and inspiring, from Genghis to Timur.

And with the supplies and equipment he had purchased, he had been able to create his masterpiece, that which had never been seen in this part of the world. Something based solidly on logic, math, and science, but a manner of warfare that went beyond even what his education had addressed. Something amazing that would strike fear into the hearts of his enemies and win him his spoils of victory. With it, he had swept down into the Dzungarian Basin, following the mountains eastward and crushing all in his path—it had been necessary if he wished the food and supplies needed to maintain his army, and had not wanted angry fighters at his back or news of his coming sent ahead of him.

His target? Chorh-Gom of course. In a delicious irony, the Wall which kept the Mongols out of China was easily bypassed, if one came at it from behind, invaded the empire through this rugged, sparsely settled frontier, then angled northeastward. There was the unavoidable detour around the desert of Gurbantünggüt, of course, but once that was accomplished, it would be child's play to follow the Ulungur He until he reached Qinghe, and from there the passes of Tavan Bogd would let him reach the fortress from its lower slopes in the eastern valley below.

Some would call him insane to attack such a stronghold, even with his secret weapons, since Commander Vachir and the Anvil of Heaven were among the most skilled, fierce, and indefatigable foes in all of China. And even aside from their tenacious stubbornness and the many traps and devices which guarded Chorh-Gom, attacking the place was tantamount to declaring war on the Son of Heaven. But he didn't care. They were merely obstacles between him and his goal, ones he could surmount with time, relentlessness, and his own unwavering belief in his cause.

Besides, it was the empire's own fault, the Emperor had been the one to make the mistake of sealing that monster away rather than simply executing him as he should have. Such a foolish decision clearly indicated Chen had lost the divine right to rule. He would crush all resistance, make his way inside the prison, and take what was so accommodatingly waiting for him there.

But when he and his army had circled the basin and made their way toward the Bogda Shan, news finally reached them—this far out in the hinterlands, it always traveled with cursed slowness. Almost nine months before, that insane, horrific beast had broken free of his cage, surely bent on reclaiming what he had believed denied him by his masters, and slaughtered nearly the entirety of the Anvil in the process. And about three months after that, Vachir himself had met his end in the same structure that had been his castle for a score of years, at the paws of his sadistic former prisoner.

The warlord had been stunned—but once he had gotten over his disbelief and confusion, it had turned into renewed fury. He could have told the Han that this plan of incarceration would never work, a demon like that spotted cat could never be truly contained for long. They had proven themselves pathetic, completely inadequate to handle such a creature, and now he was free to wreak havoc once more. At the same time, this only made his mission even more imperative. There was no one else who could stop the beast...and with Vachir and the Anvil wiped out, there was also no one to stop _him_ from hunting that wicked thing to the ends of the earth until it at last lay dead at his feet.

So he had turned south, aimed for the Gaochang Pass instead, following the Silk Road as the easiest course to reach his destination. He knew where the bastard had gone, there was nowhere else he could or would go. And whether he met him on the way or had to comb the Valley itself to find him, he would not rest until that treacherous feline had paid repeatedly for his sins...all he needed was the right information as to his whereabouts, what sort of protections and defenses he had created for himself, and then he would pursue him inexorably—crossing whatever land and wiping out whatever barriers lay in his way to reach him…

The sound of thudding feet on the sand-scoured rock beyond the tent—much closer than before—and the rattling of armor and weapons snapped him back to the present. Wheeling about, the warlord raised his chin and clasped his paws behind his back, knowing he would present the perfect image of arrogance, competence, and unparalleled strength thanks to his richly-adorned _biànfú_ of deep brown, nearly black, the sleeves of which had been removed and replaced with studded leather bracers that exposed his thickly-muscled arms.

When the soldier entered the tent, he was pleased to see it was his second-in-command, a dhole by the name of Itultarak whose deceptively slender but well-sculpted physique hid a great deal of strength and stamina. He did not salute—that sort of military etiquette was not found on the steppes or among mercenaries—but instead pressed his fist to the armor over his heart. "Sir."

"Is it done?" Despite his need to know what had been accomplished, and what reports had been obtained from the east, he kept his voice low, a rumbling growl that retained the threat of violence but was otherwise quite calm, even tranquil.

"See for yourself," the dhole replied with a small, grim smile, stepping aside to gesture out the tent flap behind him.

The warlord moved forward, his pace kept stern, unwavering, and steady. As he reached the sunlit threshold, he could feel the rising heat of the day already baking the rock around his camp, and though it instantly soaked through his clothing and caused his fur to plaster to his body with a fine sheen of sweat, he did not adjust his tight collar or show any sign of discomfort, only peering out where indicated. From this vantage point on the plateau which overlooked the road and Turfan in the near distance, he could see his men already returning, rank upon rank of well-armed and disciplined troops—unlike many mercenary captains, he insisted upon such rigid training and would accept no laxity or laziness. And behind them, he could see the great plumes of black, greasy smoke rising to the hot cloudless skies, the raging flames which produced them almost seeming part of the great Taklamakan which was their backdrop. He smiled.

"Excellent. I assume you have already collected the foodstuffs and other supplies we will need from the marketplace and all caravans in the city." At Itultarak's nod, he paused, then added, stressing each syllable, "And...our prey?" **_My_** _prey_ , he amended in his thoughts, but if he expected the army to follow him loyally, he had to maintain the fiction that they had a stake in this beyond mere rapine and ruin.

For a long moment, the smaller canine hesitated. "Our scouts did return with news. There was a caravan coming from Huozhou to the east, and we intercepted them before they could send out an alarm." Again he paused. "You were right. He is in the Valley of Peace."

The warlord frowned, glancing over his shoulder at him; there must be more to it, or Itultarak would not be so wary. And why would that monster still be tarrying there? Could he possibly have laid his paws on that blasted Dragon Scroll he'd so coveted? But how could such a thing have occurred? What had happened to Oogway and Shifu, and the Furious Five?

"I'm waiting," he said, mildly but with an edge.

His subordinate sighed. "You aren't going to believe this, but...he's master of the Jade Palace now."

" _What?!_ " Only by extreme self-control did he keep from flinging himself back into the tent and upending his table of maps in his fury; as it was, the snarl that burst from his throat was ugly, venomous, filled with all the seething rage that had burned within him for the past twenty years, and as he twisted about to stalk back into the tent instead, both his fists were clenched and ready to strike out at anyone, anything that stood in his way.

Wisely, Itultarak had smoothly but hurriedly sidestepped again so that he was not one of those things. Instead he watched his commander uncertainly as he went on. "Forgive me, sir. But I was told that...well, apparently something extraordinary happened in the Valley after his...escape. The caravaneers didn't have many details, but some great threat came to the Valley, and he vanquished it. So out of gratitude, the Emperor pardoned him and he was given mastery of the palace. He's living there now with Shifu, these five kung fu masters you spoke of, and...the Dragon Warrior."

Although this information only made the wolf's hackles rise and his temper build to an even more fiery level, he couldn't help but stare in complete befuddlement. "How? How could he...and they...and…" It made no sense. Yes, he had been groomed to be a great warrior and leader, he had once been the hero of the Valley, but all of that had been thrown away the night of the rampage. There was no possible way he could ever be forgiven for his actions that day, no manner in which he could recover any semblance of sanity or conscience so as to pursue such a goal, let alone earn it. And after what had set him off to begin with, how could he be dwelling at the palace while someone else bore the scroll he had so greedily yearned for?

Could he possibly have been changed by his time in Chorh-Gom? Could he truly have learned his lesson, become a better person, like the good man he had once been…?

_No. **No!**_

Slowly he forced himself to calm down; it would not do to have the men lose their resolve, or worse conclude he had become an indecisive liability. And only if he focused, planned, thought this through, could he figure out what to do with this information and alter his tactics accordingly. When his growls had quieted and his shoulders had unknotted (though he still felt some of the ties of his _biànfú_ stretching a bit whenever his chest heaved), he looked up again with narrowed eyes. To Itultarak's credit, he did not flinch, even though the wolf knew the blazing gold of those orbs would be extremely unsettling in the darkened tent.

"Never mind. This changes nothing." The dhole raised an eyebrow, and he qualified his statement slightly. "Our goal is the same, as is our target. But if those fools in Hubei cannot see the truth, then we must show them. I don't know how _he_ managed to mislead them so thoroughly—" Perhaps this threat the beast had vanquished had actually been in league with him, a manufactured villain whose defeat was engineered solely to make him appear as the vaunted hero he had always professed to be, not a true threat at all. Yes, _that_ sounded more like him. "—but I know who and what he truly is. Whatever he claims, he will turn on them when they least expect it, when what he seeks is within his grasp, when he tires of their praise and unleashes his bloodlust to once more destroy everything they love."

Striding over to his folding lapdesk, he began fishing about for parchment, brush, and ink. Over his shoulder, he rattled off his orders—once more in complete control, efficient, strong-willed, and coolly confident. If he'd had a mirror handy so as to see the slightly unhinged furor in his eyes, he would have dismissed it instantly as the strength of heart and unimpeachable righteousness that had driven him all these years, made his vengeance closer and more achievable than ever. "When the men have finished with Turfan, and have satisfied all their appetites, tell them we will be marching eastward, to Huozhou, where we will establish a permanent camp...and hold it all captive."

"Captive, sir?" Despite the questioning tone, the Kazakh didn't seem disturbed or reluctant to obey, merely curious.

"Yes," he snapped irritably. "The town, the people, the road and all its traffic—and the Thousand Buddha Caves of Bezeklik, too. That ought to get the attention of those idiots in Gongmen." Despite himself, the wolf chuckled coldly; it was as much their fault as anyone else's, what had happened that day twenty years ago...what he had lost. And he knew Xiaozhi at least would be both infuriated by the threat to such a sacred place, and willing to do almost anything to avert it.

Even as he was speaking, he'd been writing with swift but skillful motions, and after blowing sand across the parchment to dry the ink, he turned and thrust the roll out at Itultarak. "Find someone in town to deliver that to Gongmen, and then all we have to do is wait. The empire's finances can't survive long without the lifeblood that trade brings. And if I know the Council as well as I think I do, they won't be willing to sacrifice that, especially not for the sake of one supposedly-reformed, black-hearted convict. I gave them my list of demands in that letter. I have every confidence Thundering Rhino and the others will do our work for us. If not...well then, we shall still be traveling to Hubei. But not to protect it. To besiege it. To save it from itself, from _him_."

The wolf nodded in finality, then turned back to once more gaze at the map, eyes fixed on the symbol that marked the Jade Mountain's location, as the dhole silently departed behind him. _Rest while you can, Tai Lung. Delude yourself into believing you have won, that everyone in the empire has lapped up your ridiculous hero act and is securely in the palm of your paw. You will soon discover how mistaken you are, and when you are again alone and have lost everything...then, and only then, will I slit your throat and let your blood pour out at my feet._

_And as you die, you will regret **ever** crossing paths with Shou Feng. _

* * *

Although many would have been wary of interrupting Tai Lung and Tigress's nuptial activities—out of fear of _either_ of them being extremely displeased—Mei Ling didn't even hesitate to knock briskly at their chamber door, and frankly Jia didn't blame her; this matter was dire enough that it superseded anything else. As if any more proof of that were needed, when the snow leopard finally answered her half-sister's summons—growling, muttering rather foul curses under his breath, and wrapped in a light silken robe which left little to the imagination—he took one look at the mountain cat's stricken face and all anger and resentment in his golden eyes died.

And when he took the letter from her paw and read it (she couldn't tell if he were doing so repeatedly or was simply staring at its words unseen after the initial perusal), his face, too, became still, taut, and even grayer than its fur. There was also more than a little confusion and distress, something she didn't think she'd ever seen on Tai Lung's face.

The letter was somewhat brief, though she didn't know if the writer was usually that cursory and direct or if there simply wasn't any more information to be had.

" _To Grand Master Shifu and Master Tai Lung of the Jade Palace: greetings in haste._

_A matter of gravest concern has been brought to our attention here in Gongmen, one that not only threatens the sanctity and security of the empire but yourselves specifically. An army has invaded the western reaches of Xinjiang, circumventing the Great Wall so as to penetrate to the interior provinces, and by following the Silk Road it is on a path which will take it perilously near the Valley of Peace. This is in fact its leader's sole target, as he has informed us by message hawk, although he will attack any military outpost, undefended town, or even the capital itself if he has to to get what he wants._

_I do not know who he is or why he seeks this—all he has told us is his name, Shou Feng, which is not familiar to me, and that he is a wolf—but he claims to have been one of those wronged by Tai Lung during his rampage twenty years prior. He has said he will only leave China in peace if the one who ruined his life is delivered to him, to be dispensed with as he sees fit; otherwise, he will slaughter the hostages he currently holds and then move onward through Gansu, doing the same to every city he comes across, and eventually the Valley of Peace itself, until he achieves his desires._

_Our own army has been sent to meet his, and all members of the Council accompany it, but we do not think we can stop him alone—he claims to have a secret weapon which will make all defenses pointless, even the Wall itself, and his messenger corroborates this. With it he has even made threats against the Thousand Buddha Caves._

_So although it pains me to do this, I must bow to the wishes of Masters Storming Ox and Croc: please, come to Xinjiang, Tai Lung...and turn yourself in. Give yourself up to him, not to atone—for I personally believe you have already done so—but to preserve the empire, the innocent, and the peace which you and the Dragon Warrior have fought so hard to establish. If you do not...well, I cannot allow my colleagues to enforce this decision, but you will be dooming the Valley once more to a devastating fate._

_With all respect and confidence you will make the right choice, I hope to see you at Huozhou within a month, two at most, so that the matter of Shou Feng can be resolved swiftly and without further bloodshed._

_Xiaozhi, Thundering Rhino, High Councilman of Gongmen."_

"I can't believe this!"

This came from Tigress, who, after donning enough clothing to make herself decent, had come up behind her new husband and snatched the letter from his numb grip. Scanning the document quickly, she snarled, gritted her teeth in a clenched jaw, and while she managed (barely) not to shred the parchment or crumple it in her paw, her eyes did blaze with fury.

Jia knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't help but try for a little levity. "Yeah, I know—how many times now has this place been targeted by bad guys? You're gonna have to come up with a new name for it, it sure isn't peaceful!"

Crane gave her a scandalized look, but she knew she'd heard a snicker from Mei, quickly stifled, and even Tai Lung's lips twitched briefly in a smirk. Tigress, naturally, didn't seem at all amused, although the fact she didn't even chastise the snow leopardess made her wonder if the other feline had better humor than she gave her credit for. Or maybe, especially for a situation like this, she thought the best response was none at all.

"Thundering Rhino is a great man," the leader of the Five said when she had regained some semblance of calm, her voice as level as she could make it. "A wise master, diplomat, and leader who has ended many conflicts quickly, and prevented others from ever taking place. And clearly he's been backed into a corner on this. But _how_ can he think this is the right answer—or that we'll stand for it?!" Now she did ball her fist, slamming it into the door frame, which gave off an ominous crack.

Mei seemed to agree with her, if less vehemently. "Well, based on this letter...and from what I've heard while I was traveling China...I'd guess this is Ox and Croc's doing. Not that they don't have what's best for the empire in mind, I'm sure, but...I don't think they've ever fully forgiven Tai for the things he did. The Emperor practically had to threaten them with being kicked off the Council before they'd go along with his pardon, and I think they might have even taken that as punishment to keep from having to accept Tai's new position, if Xiaozhi hadn't _also_ threatened to revoke their status as masters."

She sighed and looked at the snow leopard mournfully. "I think they'd leap at the first chance they got to get rid of you that didn't have any strings attached, and if it could be for the common good, so much the better."

The growl from Master Tigress was rather blood-curdling, but it was cut off by a peremptory grunt from her husband—and when she glanced his way, Jia was shocked to see dejection, grim sorrow, and even the beginnings of surrender on his blocky face. "Maybe they're right," he murmured dully, as if in a trance. "Maybe this truly is the only choice. Maybe it's for the best I face the last ghost of my past…"

Jia couldn't believe what she was hearing—and even she couldn't explain, later, if what had driven her to speak and act was her lingering feelings for Tai Lung, the snow leopard having turned his life around and just begun embarking on a whole new bright future...or how much he'd sounded like herself, just then. Whatever it was, it compelled her to step forward, glare up into the spotted feline's downcast face, then slap him right across the muzzle. Everyone stared in shock, and even Tai Lung himself could only let out a querulous yowl.

"Don't you _ever_ say that again, Tai Tai! I know you're turning over a new leaf, trying to do good and be a hero again, but that's just crazy talk. So you'd just better not say it, or anything like it!" She nodded with brisk finality.

For what seemed like forever, everyone stared at her, and it was definitely a competition between which of them was more surprised, and even impressed, by her impassioned words and how she had dared speak out against the former scourge of the Valley, let alone actually strike him! She also was quite certain Tigress at least was revising her opinion of her yet again, not to mention rather torn between conflicting desires—the striped feline was quite easy to read, and as much as she obviously wouldn't want Tai Lung marching off to a fatal doom, she clearly wouldn't want this Shou Feng to get away with his invasion either. And having Jia of all people be the one to knock sense into her husband rather than herself had to rankle too.

_You were also the one who had designs on the stud for months, and did all you could to try and keep them apart so you could make him yours—including fighting her. She's not gonna forget that anytime soon._ The ex-Wu Sister bit her lip.

But before she could apologize, moderate her words in some fashion, or simply slink away with her tail between her legs (literally), the snow leopard cleared his throat meaningfully. Looking up, she saw that the rather ashamed expression he'd been wearing had cleared, replaced by a new determination, understanding, and forthrightness. If she'd needed any more indication how much Tai Lung had changed, he didn't react in anger. Instead he only regarded her calmly, then gently placed his paws consolingly on her shoulders.

"You're quite right," he said at last, softly. "Despair is beneath dignity. I pledged my life to the protection of China, and I adhere to that vow still. We can't know if that sacrifice will really be redeemed, or what form it might take. I _have_ to consider the possibility that offering up my life could be our only option. I can't go making exceptions to my oath just because those I care about, and who care about me, don't want to lose me—or because I'm rather attached to my pelt myself, by the by." Although that last bit was as encouraging as it was amusing, Jia tensed up; it rather sounded as if he was planning to rebut her.

Tai Lung seemed to sense this, and instantly he smirked at her, stopping her voice in her throat. Curiously she waited to hear what else he was going to add—and not only did she not have to wait long, when he started speaking again there was a cocky brass in his tone that Jia found completely reassuring...and, she had to admit, rather arousing. " _But_ if anyone thinks I'm going to go down so easily and without a fight, especially to some son of a bitch as obsessed with fantasies of righteous revenge as I used to be, I fully intend to prove them wrong. Neither Oogway, nor Chorh-Gom, nor the Anvil of Heaven, nor even the Furious Five could best me. This Shou Feng sure as hell won't either!"

"Now that's the Tai Lung I like to hear!" Jia exclaimed with excitement. "I could kiss you. In fact, I think I will." True to her word, she gave him a generous peck on the cheek and hugged him tightly, her tail lashing joyfully behind her. She felt as much as heard Tai Lung laughing merrily as he returned her embrace gratefully.

She hated to leave that embrace, and hated even more to put a damper on the snow leopard's good spirits, but a deliberate throat-clearing from Tigress put an end to the former...and she couldn't hold back the rest of her response to the letter and the course of action it had called for. "The thing is, though...I _really_ don't think you should go to Xinjiang, big guy."

The smile was wiped from his face like sweat from a perspiring brow, and he regarded her with disbelief and, unsurprisingly, annoyance. " _What?_ After all that, calling me out for being a bloody coward, inspiring me to keep fighting the good fight, now you're telling me I _can't_ wipe the ground with his arse?!"

Jia couldn't help laughing at the mental image those words conjured up, and while Crane covered his face with one wing, Mei and Tigress seemed just as amused and full of consternation, respectively, as she and Tai Lung were. The striped feline was in fact the first to step forward, crossing her arms severely over her chest.

"Not that I want my husband flinging himself back onto the field of battle practically on our wedding night...violence, after all, is not always the answer—keep that bill _closed_ , Crane, or I'll do it for you—" Jia turned just in time to see the waterfowl obeying with alacrity as a clenched umber fist was withdrawn from his face as quickly as it had been thrust there. "—but I confess I don't see what you're getting at, Jia. If you don't think he should go and face this warlord, why encourage him to be proactive instead of giving up?"

"You mean, other than not wanting to see him so down in the dumps? And nothing like the fierce, badass warrior we all know he is?" the snow leopardess quipped. In spite of herself, Tigress was smiling now, though she still spared a moment to swat the spotted cat—without even looking—with one paw, right as a swaggering grin appeared on his face, so that instead of buffing his chest with his knuckles, he doubled over with a grunt and an aggrieved groan.

"Because," Jia went on more seriously, "like Tai Tai said, I don't think turning himself in is going to solve anything. I don't doubt his skill, so I'm not worried about him getting killed. What does worry me is what the cost might be. This guy isn't going to go down any easier than we will. And he's got that army, and whatever his 'secret weapon' is. You really think he's just going to turn around and go home quietly just because we give him what he wants? That all those mercenaries he's hired will just stand around looking pretty with their weapons before they march off without any kind of booty or plunder, or that the weapon's just there to intimidate everybody but won't ever get used?" She shook her head deliberately. "That's not the way these things go, and that's not how these guys think."

Mei frowned worriedly, then regarded Tigress dismally. "She's right, you know. Even if Tai wasn't ripe for the slaughter, the answer couldn't be that simple."

"That's not all," the former assassin went on, warming up to her subject. "If you did what the Council wanted, you'd be letting the bad guy dictate terms. Submitting to his authority, letting him get away with his threats...and that's setting a _really_ bad example. Even if he never does cause trouble again, what's to stop the next Mongol chieftain, or southern raider, or rebellious noble, from making the same kinds of demands...because they know it worked once, that we're willing to make all kinds of concessions just to protect the empire and keep the peace?"

Now it was Crane who spoke up at last, as rueful as he was assertive for a change. "Master Oogway always said the same thing. 'Once you start down the steepest of paths, it is most difficult to turn and climb back up again.' Appeasement never works, in the long run."

"And finally," Jia said with great firmness, "you know there's no way any of us would let you go alone. But who would you take? I'd hope you wouldn't put Tigress in danger—" Even as the striped feline started to growl dangerously, she quickly added, "—especially not after all that 'celebrating' you've been doing had to have put her in the family way by now." Mollified, Tigress shot her husband a stricken look that he returned with a slow swallow...and then Jia drove in the final nail...even though it wrenched at her heart as much as she knew it would theirs. " _And_ you know who's going to want to go, as soon as he finds out what's happening, and what you were planning to do. I _know_ you don't want Po to face this guy."

The equally anguished looks on both cats' faces—but especially on Tai Lung's—made her want to clutch her stomach and find the deepest, darkest shadow to hide in. It was heartening to know two such ferocious, and previously heartless, fighters had come to care for the panda so deeply, but that didn't stop her from feeling like, well, an assassin again just for saying such a thing. Yet she couldn't let anything happen to the Dragon Warrior. Not now. _Not ever_ , a voice in her mind whispered fiercely, something that made her feel almost as bewildered and upset as their expressions.

Slowly, trembling slightly, the snow leopard gave in, all the ferocity and tension leaving his body as he supported himself against the doorframe. "Bollocks," he hissed. "I hate it, but she's right."

For a few long moments, they all stared at each other again, either sobered by this realization or simply left completely confused as to what plan of action to take instead. Into the shadowy summer quiet of the bunkhouse night, Jia spoke once more, somehow managing to stay steady and conciliatory. "No. I'm afraid you all need to stay here. Tai, your place is at the Jade Palace, as its new master." In spite of everything, her mouth quirked up. "Your place is in your wife's bed, too, and there's no way I'd _ever_ want to take you away from that."

" _Thank_ you," Tigress said dryly; Tai Lung, meanwhile, was quite red, and not just from embarrassment, she wagered. "Then I take it you're suggesting…?"

She realized the truth at the same time the other feline voiced it, what she had known subconsciously, decided instinctively as soon as she'd read that letter. There was no other option, and she wouldn't have it any other way. "Yes. Leave this warlord to _me_." She paused, trying to gauge whether her words had been too flippant, or too sinister, then glanced at her sister and Jien. "Well, to _us_. If you guys want to go, too." She tried to smile in her usual playful fashion, but didn't know if she'd succeeded.

"Of course," Mei said instantly, and although he didn't seem as sanguine (or confident) about it, Crane echoed her a beat or two after.

The leader of the Five nodded in approval at the avian, then raised an eyebrow. "I see. Well then, it seems Shou Feng won't be the only one displeased when Tai Lung doesn't show up. I do wish I could see the looks on Ox and Croc's faces…" From the dark purr in her voice, she must truly have resented their continued mistreatment of Tai Lung; from the rather satisfied look on _his_ face, he must wish to see the same thing she did.

"Don't worry," the mountain cat replied, showing her fangs. "Leave the Kung Fu Council to _me_."

"If that's all settled then," Tai Lung drawled rather smugly, "I suppose we should be getting back to...things which are none of your bloody business. And you should start making the preparations for your journey." He started to turn back to the bedroom, one thickly-muscled, spotted arm snaking out seemingly of its own accord to wrap around Tigress's waist—but then he stopped, shooting the three of them a troubled gaze. "I do wish there was something I could do to help, though. Everything you've said makes far too much blasted sense...but I meant what I said. This is a part of my past I need to face, one way or another. It feels damned wrong to have you all do it in my place, without me having to do so."

"I know what you mean," Mei Ling said, somehow both apologetic and with a fierce darkness in her voice; although Jia had had just as much right to avenge their father, she knew the mountain cat still resented Tai Lung taking her place in battle, so that she'd had to settle for helping bring down Xiu only indirectly. "Maybe you can help out by at least telling us who he is, why he wants you dead? Anything you can remember could be key to bringing him down, shaking him up, whatever we have to do to stop him."

The ex-convict frowned, brows furrowed in concentration. "I...I don't know. His name means nothing to me either, I'm afraid." Jia thought she knew why his face went bleak, and she wished she could rush into his arms again, this time to comfort him. To have brought harm to so many you couldn't even remember all of them...

But it turned out he didn't need it, for after another few moments something seemed to dawn on the snow leopard, and standing up straight once more, he turned and gazed up in the direction of the Jade Palace. His eyes burned brighter than ever in the darkness, with emotions she couldn't describe or name. "But I can bet you anything that I know to whom it _would_.

"And if I'm right...if he can shed some light on all this...well then, let's just say I do believe I'll have a message of my own for you to give this Shou Feng."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The area of the Jade Palace gardens where Jia starts this chapter of the vignette is a shout-out to the part of the Valley where Dalang took Tigress on their first date in Luna's "That's Why They Call It the Present". And as the first of several more shout-outs to _Avatar: the Last Airbender_ there's Jia tempting fate by talking about "clear skies and smooth sailing from now until forever" just like Sokka did after the defeat of Long Feng.
> 
> Shou Feng (whose name means "mountain wind" or "point of a weapon") was a character I conceived and planned to bring into the story all along when I included him and his father's death in the montage of Tai's rampage memories in Chapter 29. His dhole second, Itultarak, has an actual Kazakh name, meaning "dog loner". :P Thundering Rhino's given name, meanwhile, is from Ilien's wonderful "Book of Changes".


	2. Chapter 2

Just as Tai Lung had suspected, Master Shifu was able to ferret out the information they needed—after being told, quietly, by his son and Mei Ling just what was occurring to the west and what the Kung Fu Council had requested as the solution, the red panda had immediately stalked to the scroll room, pale blue eyes lidded and jaw set. If Jia hadn't been worried about the Council's reaction when they appeared in Xinjiang, she would have been rather smug at seeing the old kung fu master so infuriated with his fellow warriors. The snow leopard, despite his own uncertainty, _did_ look smug.

In the scroll room, it hadn't taken Shifu long at all to find what he was looking for—a parchment documenting all the damage the Valley of Peace had incurred during Tai Lung's rampage, as well as listing all those he had injured or killed. To no one's surprise, the spotted feline could not gaze at this scroll for more than a few moments before averting his eyes and turning his back, shoulders slumped and head hung low. To Jia's pleasure, it was Crane who came up behind Tai Lung and gently rested his wing feathers on the cat's shoulder, helping to soothe the trembling that had begun to shake his massive frame.

As she turned back to her sister, Shifu was already scanning the lines of hanzi with rapid, jerky flicks of his eyes, pausing only when he came across a matching name and reading it aloud. It took five tries—there were a number of Shous in the Valley, it seemed—before one name and its accompanying profession caused Tai Lung to stiffen, tail twitching, and slowly turn to gaze at them all with a stricken expression.

"That's the one," he said in a harsh, rasping whisper. "Fits perfectly, no one else makes sense. I never knew his name...but I remember him well. And I can see why his son would wish for my head."

With those words, the snow leopard had departed the chamber, employing slow, shuffling movements more like what a saddened elder was wont to use. They did not see him again until after Zeng had helped them procure all the necessary supplies; after Shifu had spoken to each of them with earnest intensity regarding their task—which, as if they didn't know it, he urged them must be completed successfully before either the empire fell to the warlord's onslaught or Tai Lung changed his mind and rushed off to face his punishment; and after the three of them had successfully (and guiltily, on Jia's part) avoided the Dragon Warrior so they would not have to forcefully insist the panda stay in the Valley where it was safe. So that she would not have to gaze into his bright green eyes which pleaded with her to let him do his duty, be a great hero yet again...ensure she, too, did not meet a painful end…

When they did reunite with Tai Lung, it was only for him to hand over a tightly rolled, capped, and heavily-sealed scroll—protections which he'd quietly claimed he'd put in place, not to keep the contents safe from the elements during their journey, but to keep any of them from reading the private, carefully-chosen words which were meant for Shou Feng's ears alone.

Not that he believed any of them had no right to know, and he acknowledged with a faint wryness that there was nothing stopping them from disobeying and tearing the missive open as soon as they were out of his sight. But he dearly hoped they would promise him not to pry, and keep their word, until they actually stood before the warlord...so they would have no time beforehand to ponder its contents, debate their merits—or decide to dispose of it, unshared, once they knew what he had written.

Heading back to his chamber to rejoin Tigress...not that either cat was in much of a celebratory mood any longer...and do all he could to distract Po, the rest of the Five, and especially his family members from knowing what was brewing to the west, he had looked so conflicted. Still proud and strong-willed, sticking to his chosen course and allowing them, with humble gratitude, to deal with this new danger that he could not. But also overlain with such palpable loss and confusion, seeming completely bewildered as to how to handle the return of his past and the many emotions this stirred to life.

And as they had made their way down the stairs, between the towering statues of the Vault of Heroes, and across the moon bridge that would take them through the Valley to the ledges that led to the Thread of Hope, Jia could not blame him one bit. Because like him, like Mei, and even like Shou Feng himself it turned out, she knew exactly how it felt to lose a father...and to still have no inkling how to deal with and recover from it, even so many years later.

She sighed heavily, looking down at her paws as she wrung them together habitually, not even paying attention to the landscape as they traveled. Grief surged through her. She could still see it, still feel it, and it still haunted her—even though she no longer blamed herself (as much) for it, now that she had finally broken free of her sister's dominating control, the death of Wu Xuan was as fresh, painful, and upsetting to her as it was to Mei.

She could feel his aged body go limp in her arms, feel the warmth of life slowly ebbing from it, see the bright light of his soul going out from his green eyes, but now instead of despair, guilt, and self-loathing over having caused this by leading her sister straight to him...she felt only a growing fury and rage at Xiu for what she had done to him. To both of them.

Xiu had been the one to directly kill him of course—she didn't know which was worse in retrospect, if she had done so of her own accord, because of her own dismissal of Xuan's good and heroic nature as "weakness", or if she merely internalized Qing's view of him and had so in a sense been carrying their mother's will out by proxy. But Xiu had also been the one to make everyone think Jia herself had been responsible—even herself, something the youngest Wu still couldn't wrap her mind around. _Did she somehow manage to drown out my own common sense with her manipulations and lies? Or did she just count on my conscience to keep me under her thumb?_

If the latter, that was quite an achievement, considering Xiu didn't seem to have a conscience herself and never had; but perhaps that was what was scariest of all about her...that her cold, calculating intellect was able to make use of something she herself did not possess, could not even understand, but the usefulness of which was easily identified from an outside, objective perspective and then twisted to her own ends.

Something seemed to build and burn within Jia's heart the more she thought about her eldest sibling. She had thought she'd gotten over it (though really, how did one "get over" being browbeaten, heartbroken, and robbed of all sense of dignity and self-worth for fifteen years in the space of a few months?), but now that she contemplated the matter again...now that the loss this Shou Feng had suffered had brought it to the forefront of her mind once more...she didn't know who she was madder at—Xiu, or herself.

Because even if Xiu had been the one to commit the murder and then convince her through blackmail, shame, and coercion that it was her fault, and so it would be if Xiu were forced to also kill Mei or anyone else in the family, it had been Jia herself who had let herself be so guided, intimidated, and compelled into doing Xiu's bidding, carrying out various and sundry dark missions as an assassin—each of which only gave Xiu further hold over her as it made it less and less likely anyone would ever forgive her or spare her life. Mei had turned on her, as had Xu Mei, but there might have been a chance this would not be the case, or that they could come to see the truth, if she had not been so cowardly, pitiful, and naive.

All things which Xiu had also taken advantage of.

Jia clenched her fists at her side, her heart feeling as cold as the mountain winds shrieking between the peaks of the Devil's Mouth, and she stared unseeing at the granite gateway at the end of the current span they were crossing. All those years of being on the run, hated, feared, a step away from the hangman's noose or the chopping block, vilified by the kin she most yearned to accept her while those she did have by her side treated her with contempt or simply took her for granted. _Most of the time,_ that small voice whispered again.

But she didn't focus on that, instead on what her life had become, all because of Xiu. Once she knew she had Mei fully on her side, ready to support, love, and aid her even if no one else would, and once the mountain cat and Po had helped her overcome the last paralyzing waves of fear that kept her from acting, was it any wonder that she had stabbed Xiu in the back, literally?

It had felt _so_ good, so _right_. The first thing that had felt right in her life in years. The first time she had actually enjoyed her skill set and the way of the assassin. The first time she had actually begun to see why Chun, too, had loved it, why even Qing had had a point about the role their profession played in politics, society, the balance of Yin and Yang itself. _No. Not the first time. Stop hiding from the truth because it's easier and kinder._ She shoved the voice aside again.

Not that this made her excuse or condone what Shou Feng was doing, not remotely! But...she did at least understand him a bit. Understood Tai Lung, too, for that matter, and why he was so ambivalent about all this. It was another reason why she felt she was a better choice for this confrontation than the former scourge of the Valley—because even if she was also of two minds about it, she was confident that once she had the warlord before her, had seen the atrocities he'd carried out and what sort of vengeful monster he had become in pursuit of his goal, she would be able to resolve the matter swiftly and skillfully, as Tai Lung might not (or might not get the chance to).

That she could not only once again prove her commitment to the cause of good and sustaining the empire's peace that Po, the Five, and Mei Ling fought for so valiantly—and thereby, perhaps finally be worthy of the panda—but do so in a way that let her still use her experience and training. Be an assassin, but in the right way, the way that dispensed justice neutrally and without malice, maintaining the separation and independence necessary for such a role while still acting on the dictates of her heart.

Yet it did make her hesitate, and worry, in another sense. For even if she had overcome her previous weakness, could make decisions and stick to them without immediately backtracking, now that she knew the origin of Shou Feng's enmity, she really couldn't blame him. What would she do, after all, if she had Xiu standing before her again...assuming she wouldn't instantly cower and buckle under that cold blue gaze?

What would she do if the Vault of Heroes had never happened, if instead Xuan's death remained unavenged, his soul unable to rest? (And that was assuming it even was, now. Crane had assured her otherwise, back in that tea shop in Yixing, but she wouldn't believe it unless she heard it from her father's own mouth. _Spirit. Essence._ Chi- _ghost...thing. Whatever._ ) What would _Mei_ do, in those situations?

That last question was so important, and so thought-provoking, that she couldn't help asking Mei Ling directly.

It was hours later, after they had descended the ledges from the last span of the Thread of Hope, passed through the farm fields of Hubei, and plunged into the western forests which lay between them and the mountainous border it shared with Shaanxi. Since there happened to be no villages nearby when the time came to rest, the three of them had made camp, well within the shelter of the boughs of pine, oak, and birch, so they would be protected should a sudden summer storm come upon them during the night. As was apparently his wont whenever traveling with the Five, Crane had been the one to not only gather and light the wood for their campfire, but also prepare their small but filling meal. So that had given Jia the perfect opportunity to approach her half-sister.

"Sis?" She tried not to wring her paws, but couldn't quite manage the playful, bubbly tone she usually used.

"Yeah?"

"Can I...talk to you for a bit?"

In spite of herself Mei smiled a little. "You just did."

_Stop stealing my lines, Mei Mei. Especially when I'm not in the mood to use them._ "Uh, well...the thing of it is...I've been thinking about Dad. I'm sure you don't need to think hard to guess why."

All trace of amusement and fondness was wiped from the mountain cat's face. Staring at her soberly, blankly, she said in a quiet, inflectionless tone, "What about him?"

Despite this inauspicious beginning, Jia knew she couldn't avoid this, so she plunged on in. "Well, you see, I was wondering...do you think, if he were still alive, that he'd...forgive Xiu? Or want us to?" She bit her lip and scrunched her eyes shut, cringing in anticipation.

But her sister stayed silent rather than exploding at her in rage; at first she was relieved, but the more she thought about it, the more unnerving it became. When Mei finally spoke, it was in almost the same tone, though now with a sad weariness to it. "Why does it matter, Jia? He's dead, long dead. And she's been put away where she belongs. It's ancient history now, why dredge that up again?"

She had some good points, but Jia knew if this wasn't addressed now, it could jeopardize their ability to be objective, rational, and compromising when they met with the warlord. _Besides...this has been left buried and festering long enough already._ "You're right, he is. But we're not. We're still here, having to deal with all this and pick up the pieces. And it's what's in our hearts and minds that's going to make or break things when we get to Xinjiang. How are we supposed to get this crazed wolf to back off Tai Tai if we can't even let our own vendettas go?"

Mei blinked, looking rather stricken, but then she pressed her mouth together. "Right. I can't deny that. But are you seriously telling me, after everything we've been through, everything she did to us, to _you_ , that you want to forgive her?" She shook her head slowly. "Back when we were in Haojing, you couldn't stop talking about how much you wanted her to suffer. You would have killed her yourself, if it hadn't been for Heian Chao."

"Yeah, well, that was then, this is now. Heat of the moment, and all that. I hadn't had time to think about it more, and we hadn't just been given an example of what happens when someone can't let go of their hatred." The snow leopardess paused, then sighed. "And I didn't say I wanted to forgive her. I don't even know if I can. But before I can even try to figure that one out, I need to have all the facts, hear all sides."

The mountain cat gazed at her for a long time without saying anything, then sighed and looked away into the trees; the deepening shadows lent her features a harshness and sharpness they usually didn't have. "Okay, fair enough. But I really can't tell you. I don't know what he would have done, or wanted. But you know the kind of person he was as much as I do. And you also know my views. So if you're looking to _me_ for approval or justice, you won't get it—but that doesn't matter, because you have to make your _own_ choice, Jia." Her voice became pleading, earnest, and Jia caught her breath.

"I know for years you couldn't, because Xiu wouldn't let you. Now's the time to start making them again. And yes, that means you even have the freedom, now, to choose to forgive Xiu, or at least let the past go." She shook her head at the irony. "It's up to you to decide, but I can say this: Dad was a good man, the best of men, but even he had his flaws. You don't spend a night in the arms of someone like Wu Qing if you're completely on the straight and narrow, and the fact he had a set of lockpicks to leave to me probably wasn't just because he kept finding himself in tough scrapes he needed to break his way out of. So he was no stranger to making mistakes...or seeking forgiveness for them."

She glanced over her shoulder as Crane came back from fetching the last of the firewood and, having fed it into the flames, started in their direction with bowls of stew and dumplings; his expression was rather quizzical. "What would Dad say, Jia? I think you know. He gave _Qing_ the benefit of the doubt; in fact he told me it was because of her that he settled down, became more serious in life, and started following Buddhist teachings a lot more scrupulously.

"He wasn't stupid. He wouldn't say you should just grant absolution without a second's thought; there has to be remorse, true repentance, at least a hint that somebody deserves such a consideration, and you have to make peace with it in your own soul. But...it should always be possible. Always ready to be offered. How else could Tai Lung have redeemed himself? How else could I have forgiven you so quickly? Why else should we even strive to do better in our next lives, if we know no one—not even the Lords of Death—will give us another chance?"

Mei turned away...and although she gave a small, warm smile at having accepted her sister back, despite her wise words of clemency, she still looked deeply troubled, and Jia couldn't blame her; she herself felt just as torn. But as she watched her sister take her dinner from Crane, saw how the avian gently placed his wingfeathers around her paws, and how his soft, murmured words seemed to calm, reassure, and lighten her, the former Wu Sister couldn't help but smile too. This dilemma she was in...that would be facing Shou Feng as well...was never easy, but it was always worthwhile to face and resolve. And with Crane on their side, and through him Oogway's teachings, they could not fail.

As for Wu Xuan? Even as she, too, crossed over to gather up a bowl and mug to warm her throat and fill her belly, Jia knew her sister was right about him, had said the same things which she herself had known all along but just needed to hear from another before she could accept and admit them. Because she remembered a conversation from long ago, one Mei Ling had not been privy to, one that spoke directly to the heart of this matter...and she would never forget what her father had said, even if she had blocked it out for so very long so as to dwell on either guilt or vengeance…

_"Jia?"_

_Snapping out of a haunting reverie far too common for her these days, in which she stood over the body of someone she had slain with her budding assassin's skills...someone whose face was alternately a hapless innocent or her eldest sister with her cold blue eyes bulging and swollen like her darkened tongue...the snow leopardess looked up across the old kitchen table and met her father's green gaze. "Yes, Baba?"_

_Wu Xuan sighed heavily, shaking his somewhat-grizzled head as he knitted his paws together atop the scarred but well-preserved wood. "Daughter," he grumbled a bit disparagingly, although there was affection on his handsome face. "You would not be you if you were not such a dreamer, beyond the cares of this often unhappy and avaricious world. But sometimes you must come down out of the clouds. We were, after all, talking about something very important to you both." He paused and a pained look appeared on his features. "And you also know very well that these times we have together are rare and precious. We should make the most of them that we can."_

_He was right, of course; if it wasn't Master Hu making increasingly stressful and complex demands on her time at Li Dai, it was finding ways to evade Xiu and prevent her from discovering these clandestine visits, and just how frequent they were. The youngest of the Wu Clan had even been wary of allowing Chun to accompany her to Kunlun Shan, as she had this day, and she trusted her implicitly; whatever hold their sister had over her, and however much she was taking to Qing's teachings, she at least still harbored love and warmth toward their father...wished to have him in her life, and not bring him to any harm. Yet each new visit was a risk, and she was so very afraid…_

_Biting her lip, Jia nodded, then forced a bright smile on her elfin face. "Of course. What were you talking about?"_

_Xuan gave her a flat stare, then slumped his shoulders and glanced away. "Xiu."_

_It took all of her self-control not to lose her calm—though even she didn't know if she would have launched into a blistering tirade worthy of Mei Ling or broken down in terrified tears. Instead, she set her jaw, gripped the edge of the table, and without glancing at Chun replied, "What about her? You know I'd rather not think of her. She's a lost cause." She rolled her eyes; if this was what her father wanted to talk about, she had half a mind to simply busy herself with brewing tea and sampling more of Xu Mei's delicious_ niangpi, _and ignore him._

_The snow leopard's eyes flashed, and he actually let out a soft growl. "You hold your tongue, young lady. Whatever else she is or has done, she is still family. Many things are difficult to forgive, but turning away from one's family is one of the hardest. And as long as you do not lose hope, as long as you believe in Life instead of allowing greed, desire, and vindictiveness to rule you, you can keep yourself and others from becoming something far worse than you can possibly imagine."_

_For the first time, Chun spoke, and when Jia glanced at her she saw her eyes, the same hue as their father's but so much paler and colder, were narrowed speculatively. "Why do you care? No offense, Father, but you left us with Mother without a second's thought. The only one it seemed you were really worried about was Jia, and you certainly never showed a trace of concern or distress for Xiu. If anything, you were afraid **of** her, not **for** her." She refused to meet Jia's gaze, but the youngest sister knew from the pinched tightness around her eyes that she shared Xuan's sentiment. In unguarded moments and barely audible words, Chun had even admitted as much._

_Xuan did not gainsay her, only wincing at the accuracy of her harsh statement before dropping his gaze to his paws again, where the cold light of a mountain morning shone across them from the room's unshuttered window. "That is not the full story...but it is close enough to matter. However...you were so young, and our memories always play tricks on us when it will serve us better to remember what we prefer to be true. I did care, very much. And if Xiu frightened me...and disturbs me still today...it is only because of what Qing has made of her. Encouraged and allowed to flourish."_

_He shook his head mournfully. "I left because she demanded it, because staying would only have angered her and endangered you all. But not a day has gone by that I have not regretted that moment, wished I could return and save you. Even Xiu."_

_"Save her from what?" Although a certain uneasiness was in those viridian orbs now, her middle sibling's voice was sharp and hard. "From Mother? You didn't seem to have a problem with her that night back in Shanghai. She is practical, intelligent, and driven; she knows what she wants and how to get it, and she isn't afraid to do whatever it takes to reach her goals. You may not like her methods, Father, but there is much in her to admire and emulate."_

_Jia had to admit Chun was right...but she also knew there were darker, more upsetting things swimming in the depths of their mother's cunning mind, things she never wanted to see the light of day, and things she very much feared Qing was teaching Xiu, to the latter's wholehearted delight._

_"Or is it from the assassin's life you wish to save her?" Chun went on, eyebrow raised skeptically, her tone even more stilted and mocking. "If so, you can save your breath. Xiu and I both think—"_

_"Your mother," Xuan interrupted her, soft but forcefully, "is not the woman I thought she was. While I love you all and would not wish you out of this life, if I could go back and make different choices, Qing is not the mother I would choose for you. While all you say of her is true, you neglect to realize the darkness she holds, you do not see how far she is willing to go or what the price of her ways will be…"_

_" **Just** because she's an assassin?" Chun finally burst out, her anger making her far more vehement and caustic than her usual placid and stoic demeanor. "Father, stop living in the Zhou! We're not cutthroat villains, we aren't like the Mongols or the Huns, we are an ancient and honorable profession! Just because we don't face our enemies head-on in glorious battle, as soldiers and kung fu warriors do, does not make us cowards...we are quick and clean, efficient, our work makes war and sieges and endless violence completely unnecessary—all that death and bloodshed prevented by just a few careful killings done at the right time and place. We are neutral, beyond politics, and once we accept a payment we stay bought, unlike so many treacherous nobles. You've hacked and slashed enemies by the hundreds with your sword without any qualms, but the minute the subject of poisons and daggers comes up, you get all bleeding-heart!"_

_Jia stared at her; she'd never heard her sister so passionate. For a moment, she wavered and began to doubt herself. The way Chun described it was so much more welcoming and moral than either Xiu or Qing had ever spoken of it. While she still didn't think she'd have chosen this life if she hadn't been pressured into it by them (simply because dealing out death, even for a good cause, was deeply upsetting to her), if it had been put to her in those terms from the start, the choice at least would have been far less clear-cut…_

_Her thoughts were interrupted by Xuan, who slapped his paws on the tabletop with a sharp report before thrusting himself toward Chun. Suddenly, despite his advancing age, she could believe what a phenomenal warrior the snow leopard had once been. He was still incredibly strong...still a force to be reckoned with. His eyes certainly blazed with the same fire as her sister's had._

_"Daughter...you dishonor me. Do you think I don't know these things you speak of? Do you think just because I had to foil many an assassin's plot against the empire, I know nothing of the good and noble fighters to be found among them? Do you think that even if I never once was bothered by a combat I had to enter, a weapon I had to wield, an enemy I had to slay—and that is a false and foolish assumption—that I cannot see the value in what you do and how you do it?"_

_Xuan shook his head firmly, the hurt and disapproval and severity leaving his countenance, replaced only by sadness. "While I would wish for you to follow in my pawprints, this life you describe is indeed honorable. But is that really what you think Qing intends to do with her lineage, what legacy she hopes to leave behind? Is that what you believe she wishes to instill in you and your sisters? Is that the sort of assassin you believe Xiu will become?" He paused again, then spoke carefully and deliberately. "When she has finished learning all she can from your mother, is **she** the sort of assassin you want at your side...representing your way of life to the world?"_

_The green-eyed snow leopardess went still, utterly silent, and while Xuan's rhetoric had been powerful, Jia knew it was this last possibility which had stunned and quieted her most. They all knew the answer; no words were needed or could be said in rebuttal._

_" **That** is what I wish to save you all from," their father went on after the silence had extended for several more uncomfortable minutes. "Even Xiu. Especially Xiu. And I will be patient and kind…I will wait as long as it takes, work tirelessly to achieve it. This is no different than all the hours I spent training to be an Imperial bodyguard. I don't care how many grudges and old hatreds Qing is nursing...how much envy and distrust your sister carries in her heart. I've learned from my wife, from my years in Beijing, from simply living as long as I have, that life is precious. It is not something we should squander and sacrifice and take for granted. It is instead something that should be kept balanced and equal." _

_Chun let out a soft grunt at these words, and Jia peered at her sidelong; she had often wondered if her sister had been aiming for such a thing in her training, a way to counter the extremes found in the other Wus while also achieving the neutrality she so espoused. Was that success why she was so distant and disconnected...or had she simply surrendered all sense of right and wrong to become so emotionless?_

_Xuan interrupted her bleak and worried thoughts with gentle earnestness, and with words that appealed to her own views far more than her middle sibling's, she feared. "Even though you are right, Chun, and there is a time and place to end a life, even in such secretive and furtive ways, we must always remember it is a gift. That we must weigh very carefully, with caution and gravity and reason, before we choose to take it away from another. Sometimes there truly is no other option, it is the right choice...but even then, we must regret that it came to such a course. Do it because it is our duty, because it will be to the benefit of all, not because we enjoy it."_

_Their father sat back, the old chair creaking under his weight, and regarded both of them with solemnity and dignity, an undeniable certainty that was not smug or vindicated, merely an accepted truth. "Which means, my daughters, that even Xiu's life is sacred. I do not expect you to believe me yet. I don't know if you ever will. But I will not give up on her, any more than I will you. If you can be the kind of assassins we need, warriors I can be proud of, then so can she, someday, if we can undo the damage Qing has wrought, leach the poison from her mind, get her away from that horrifying woman and change the course of her life. Get her to see that such cruelty, malice, and sadistic pleasure will not bring her what she seeks. Show her that only by letting such base desires go, by looking beyond this world and the things you can grasp in it, can she find lasting happiness and contentment._

_"Please, my daughters. I know it may be next to impossible for her, and for you. But you must at least try. We all must. Watch her. Do all you can to work against Qing's lessons, or at least modify them. Don't let Xiu fall into that same darkness, or I very much fear for her...for all of us...for China itself."_

_Jia finally let out the breath she'd been holding and glanced uncertainly at Chun._ **_Happy? Content?_** _Those were things her eldest sister could never be, unless it was by depriving others of it, preferably in as twisted and painful a manner as she could devise. But there was no way she could look Xuan in the eye and refuse. Especially if he was right of what the consequences would be if they failed, or never even made the attempt._

_She knew her middle sibling was even less convinced than she was—perhaps wasn't even convinced at all, if her loyalty to the assassin's code and her indoctrination by their mother had sunk in as deeply as it seemed. But both of them agreed at last, albeit softly, reluctantly. Both of them had promised, to smooth over the conflict and ensure the rest of their visit would be peaceful and relaxing if nothing else, and the relief and joy and love in Xuan's eyes had stabbed deep into Jia's heart._

_Because she knew there was no way she, at least, could follow through on it. Not when Xiu terrified her so completely, and always would, and had convinced her there was nothing behind those blue eyes but a monster, a chaotic imbalance that was altogether evil. And because she feared that if this were true, there would be nothing to save...and no means to protect the empire from what Qing wanted to unleash._

Jia wiped away her tears, hoping Mei and Crane would not see them, keeping her back to them as she sat on a moss-covered stone and slowly, mechanically ate her meal. The waterfowl was an excellent cook, but she could not even taste it, only ashes.

She had failed. Hadn't even tried, truly. Everything Xuan had predicted had come true...and although he never gave up hope, had believed to the end that Xiu could be brought back from the brink, shown a different and better path...it had cost him his life. That, she now finally realized, was what she had seen in his eyes as he lay dying in her arms. Not a betrayal at thinking Jia had been the one to stab him, not even a betrayal at realizing Xiu had done the deed...but a betrayal of his own making. That he had been unable to save his eldest daughter, and if he was dying it was only because it was his own fault.

Mei was right. She knew what their father had wanted. What he would want even now, if she could speak with his ghost. It was something impossible, something she wished desperately she could go to Xiulan or Chang, Tigress or Monkey, to ask them how they had managed it in the end with Tai Lung. But none of them were here now, only Crane, and his forgiving nature was so instinctive and generous that she doubted he could even explain it. She would have to find another means of understanding, another means of achieving it.

Tai Lung had been a monster, but had come back to the light. Xiu was wicked, unrepentant, trapped now in the prison of her own mind, a fate she deserved because she had chosen it by remaining on her dark and fettered path, lost to _dukkha_...but only because Jia had broken her word to their father, had let her cowardice and fear and weakness keep her from standing between her sister and Qing, her sister and Chao.

She did not forgive Xiu. She had no idea how, didn't think she ever could. But if she didn't figure out a way to at least look past what she was, what she had done, and prove that it was possible to rise above suffering and loss, she had no idea how they could ever stop the monster Shou Feng had become.

* * *

The next morning, after the campsite had been properly cleaned and the fire had been doused so that any chance of it reigniting had been eliminated, the three kung fu warriors resumed their travels through the forests of Hubei. And after spending almost the entire day traversing the mountain range—for even with the broad, well-used pass between its peaks it was still high and rugged enough as to be a long and wearying journey—they descended into Shaanxi and crossed the great bridge over the Huang He as the sun was sinking low in the western sky.

But as they turned northward and began following the meandering curves of the river as they wound their way through hills and valleys, across plateaus and down stepped terraces, Jia had to wonder if the gods were not with them, had not been watching with careful scrutiny and pointed sympathy as she struggled with moral choices, past and present. Because if that wasn't the case, it was quite the coincidence just who it was they discovered around the riverbend—as if he'd been waiting for them all along.

They heard it before they saw it, an endless roar that only grew louder, deeper, and more deafening the closer they drew. Even if she hadn't been aware of the landmarks of this region, Jia would have easily guessed the source of the sound, but knowing and seeing were two different things. The road had veered off to the west so as to find an easier grade and open space beyond the loess hills instead of being cramped and confined by the towering slopes, leaving only a narrow path heading north which took them through a series of interconnected ledges, defiles, and canyons.

The last of these, the Jinxia, was composed of numerous slabs of limestone and granite that jutted out like shelves, emerging from thick patches of forest still green and vibrant from the spring rains, and they only grew narrower and more funnel-shaped the farther they progressed—which only forced the river's waters to rush even faster and more wildly. By the time they reached the last bend in the path, the sound shook and thundered throughout the canyon, until it seemed the very rock quivered with it, and she doubted any of them could be heard unless they shouted.

Around the last set of peaks they walked...and then the snow leopardess gasped sharply. _Lo Shen...you're just the best. Absolutely awesome, you've completely outdone yourself. My aura's never been pinker!_

The Hukou Waterfall, the largest on the Yellow River, varied in size depending on the season. Enough time had passed since the spring rains that it was no longer flooded, but it still remained vast and churning enough to stun any viewer. Bursting and pouring through the spout-like opening that gave it its name, its waters crashed endlessly through the rock, plunging downward over the cliff to reach the broader, lower portion of the river that flowed on to the north. From where she stood on the path, Jia could see the _guishi_ , the strange shining stone at the very foot of the falls which somehow rose and fell along with the water level so that it was always visible, and beyond it the even larger rock that split the Huang He into two rolling, surging channels before they came together again. Overhanging this stunning vista of pounding, rumbling, explosively flowing water was, of course, an ever-present mist that roiled and billowed upward to hide great portions of the river's heaving surface...and thanks to the warm summer sun beating down, this refracted the breathtaking multicolored arc of a rainbow that completely spanned the agitated pool like a blessing of the gods.

And it was beneath these shimmering hues, where the arch came down almost to the roots of an ancient ginkgo tree on the near side of the Huang He, that the traveler seemed to be waiting for them.

It was the color of his robes that drew her eye first—here in the mountains, where all was gray and brown with only the various shades of green in the forest trees to keep things bright and lively, the saffron and ocher stood out like a beacon on one of the Great Wall's sentry towers. That alone would have marked his class and profession, but as the group descended the pathway and drew closer, Jia could see the designs woven into sleeves and cross-collar, as well as the pendants he wore around his neck—a mandala and a _taijitu_. To add the final touches to his spiritual, dignified appearance, he was quite clearly meditating, one paw held palm up as it rested in his lap, the other reaching down to gently press the fingers against the ground, as if he were communing with the earth itself. It was a pose the name of which she couldn't recall at the moment, but she did remember seeing a great many statues of the Buddha positioned in the same manner.

What made him even more remarkable, however, and caused her at least—if not her sister and Crane—to approach him in wordless, respectful awe, was his species. The fellow was a lion, his tawny pelt almost blending into the monk's robes he wore, and while his mane was shorn in the proper religious tradition, shorter even than his species would normally exhibit, it was still readily marked by its hues: a pale bright honey, like spun gold, that surrounded his face in a halo, and ringing that a rich, deep brown that blended into black, almost like a collar. In the ways of his teachings, whether that of India, Tibet, or elsewhere in the empire, his upper robe had been doffed and wrapped around his waist, leaving his torso bare, and despite herself Jia had to restrain a pleasured purr and found herself blushing; whatever else he had been doing in his monastic life, refusing to indulge in physical labor or weapons training wasn't one of them.

Offhand she guessed he might be only a few years younger than she, in his mid-to-upper thirties, and although there was a few streaks of gray in both his mane and chest hair, he otherwise seemed in the prime of health, apart from a few scars here and there which marred his sides and pectorals. His eyes, of course, were closed, but she was quite certain he was aware of their approach; even aside from his attunement to the energies of life around him, she could simply see his ears twitching now and then, and the three of them weren't exactly trying to be silent.

Slowly she came to a stop, putting one foot up on a boulder along the riverbank so she could lean on her knee and study the monk. Crane and Mei Ling drew up abreast of and behind her, respectively, and all of them stared at the meditating lion while the waterfall pounded and tumbled behind them. Then, while they were still basking in the refreshing cool spray that wafted up into their faces, he suddenly spoke.

"Well met, friends," came his velvety smooth baritone—exactly the sort of voice she expected a man of his bulk to possess. Jia felt it course down her spine more acutely than the rumble of the waterfall. Maintaining her poise, the snow leopardess watched as the monk opened his eyes, which were a deep, dark brown, and smiled warmly at them all. He emanated a definite serenity and a familiar warmth, as if she had always known him whether in this or a past life. She noticed that her companions were putting their paws and feathers up in respect, so she hurriedly and in some embarrassment took her foot off the rock and put her own palms together, bowing her head respectfully to the monk.

The lion returned the gesture to them all, his muzzle still peaceful and welcoming. "You look hot and tired from traveling. Come and sit with me under the tree. It's cool and pleasant," he rumbled as he swept his paw toward the ground around him in invitation.

"Sounds like a good idea to me. I'm hungry," Jia quipped as she promptly plopped down beside the monk and lay back in the grass, her paws behind her head. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the occasional cool spray that came over her face. "Mmm, I can see why you'd choose to meditate here," she said to the lion.

The monk chuckled with a wide grin. "I must confess to feeling sorry for you having to travel with such thick fur. I myself had a swim in the waters earlier. It was most refreshing."

Jia was glad her eyes were closed, because at that announcement, they rolled up in her head with pleasure. The image of him frolicking naked in the water was very pleasant to contemplate—certainly better than what had been plaguing her since they departed the Valley. She allowed herself only a few moments, though, out of respect for him and to preserve _some_ dignity on her part. "I'm Jia. The other cat's my sister, Mei Ling. That fine avian alongside her is Master Crane of the Jade Palace." As had become second nature to her now, she didn't even hesitate in withholding her family name; even one as personable and open-minded as a Buddhist monk might disapprove of her lineage and former profession, or at least be uncomfortable.

"How do you all do?" the monk asked. "I'm known as Achal, Achal Balaji. Come, don't stand on ceremony. Sit and relax. Eat if you wish. Where are you all headed?"

"Huozhou," Jia heard Crane answer respectfully as she opened her eyes again to look up at the tree while the waterfowl stood perched on one leg (the only way she'd ever seen him relax), beside Mei and before the saffron-clad lion. "We're on a mission to hopefully secure peace."

"I have heard there was a warlord coming but nothing more," Achal replied, seeming to choose his words carefully; although his tone was mild, she could hear the underlying concern in it, and another emotion she couldn't quite place. "Why so few of you, though? What are his demands?"

"Tai Lung's fluffy pelt," Jia answered stiffly. "Tai Tai killed his father during that so-called rampage all those years ago, and he's vowed vengeance at any cost."

Achal shook his head sadly. "I have heard more than enough of that sorrowful tale—and also about its underlying cause. The story of that _chi_ wizard has traveled far already. I can tell you, it made my fur stand on end!"

"You and the rest of us!" Mei Ling put in. "And we were there, at least for the end of it. The warlord—Shou Feng is his name—may or may not know about it. We don't know. Somehow I'm not sure it would make much of a difference, but we're hoping to change the odds."

"I do not see Tai Lung," Achal observed, somewhat delicately. "Why has he not come?"

"We convinced him not to," Jia answered.

"The Kung Fu Council wanted to accede to the warlord's orders," Crane interjected, almost as flatly as she had. "We all thoroughly disagreed. He's Master of the Jade Palace now, a married man and certain to be a father soon enough, a man trying very hard to turn his life around. To suddenly snatch that away from him, well that just seemed cruel to us, something more like what the barbarian hordes would do. In Tai Lung's favor, though, he _was_ willing to surrender himself if that was what it would take to bring peace."

"Are they _mad_?" the monk suddenly exclaimed, looking alarmed and disgusted; the more they told him, the less serene he seemed. "Accede to a terrorist and his thugs?" He harrumphed. "That would hardly set a good precedent, and it would be a cowardly tribute. So much for the bravery of the esteemed Kung Fu Council!" he added with a marked roll of his eyes.

Mei Ling winced. "Well, in their defense, Thundering Rhino was thinking of the rest of the empire, wanting to protect all its innocent people, and those in the Valley of Peace. Needs of the many over the one, you know. But the rest of the Council, well...let's just say they didn't see giving up Tai Lung to be much of a sacrifice." Her expression turned bleak.

"Yeah, I thought they were stuck-up, pig-headed, green-eyed idiots who were just plain deaf when the universe started calling loudly to them," Jia said dryly.

Achal chuckled appreciatively. "Well put! You all clearly had more sense than they, as well as the bravery to stand up for someone that is still widely mistrusted in China—and not for terribly good reasons any longer."

"That's what I would have said, but almost no one listens to me," Jia said lightly, bringing one leg up and crossing the other over it. "What can I say, my past tends to count against me, plus I'm just a little too eccentric for most people."

The lion raised an eyebrow and smirked. "So how many people have run afoul of low expectations regarding you in battle and diplomacy?" he asked, sagely knowing.

"Well, the last one I smacked senseless with an octopus."

The monk held his belly and laughed heartily as he toppled back against the ginkgo trunk, much to everyone's surprise.

"I _like_ this woman. She's a treasure!" he said, motioning at her with one thumb. "And I like people who can make me laugh. Where _did_ you find her?"

"And you seemed so serious and formal a few minutes ago," Crane observed, shaking his head, though whether in disapproval or bemusement she couldn't tell. "That's quite a belly laugh you have though. Rather reminds me of Mantis. I know Monkey would like it, anyway. Not at all what you'd expect from a monk."

Achal laughed again as he put his own paws behind his head, crossing his legs lazily; Jia tried very hard not to ogle his torso. _Why do I keep meeting all the studs in the land every time I turn around? It's like the gods are **trying** to tempt me away from Po… _"True. There is a time and place for calm, quiet, and gravity, but sometimes I feel we take ourselves far too seriously. And as the Enlightened One said, 'When you realize how perfect everything is, you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky. And laughter is the language of the gods.' My brother has tried for years to instill a sense of humor in me—I used to be a truly serious, dour man, you know. His diligence is paying off, however. It's actually at his suggestion that I decided to take the Precepts and don these robes which thankfully go rather well with my fur." He elevated his nose ever so slightly in pride.

" _You_ were dour?" Mei Ling asked in surprise. "You certainly don't seem it now."

"I get it from my father. Bad-tempered, crusty old bastard he was. He never appreciated my brother's jokes—or any of us, really." The essence of bitterness in his confession came through quite clearly. "I think I received the least of his ire because I was as bad-tempered for a while as he was and never had a kind word for anyone, at least around him. My brother always worked behind the man's back and made me laugh so hard sometimes my stomach would hurt for hours." A smile returned to his handsome muzzle, as did his initial warmth and joviality, but that buried pain and regret still haunted his dark eyes. "Bless that man. Change is hard, but it is possible if you want it badly enough, and you have enough support to see you through."

"How'd it lead you to be a monk?" Jia wondered pertly, now sitting up and looking at him with even greater interest; even if this did divert them from their mission for a time, she had the feeling his story might help them fulfill it, or at least give them more inspiration and hope that they could. _Besides, he looks so sad! It's gotta be good for him to talk about it, let it out._

"I wanted to please my brother and mother," the bigger cat replied, simply and directly. "They both worried that I could end up like my father, and even though I pretended otherwise, I didn't want that any more than they did. There was a temple near our village. My father had no time for things like that. I think he enjoyed ruining other people's contentment." His jaw clenched, then relaxed as he looked briefly away, the harshness and stilted tone leaving his voice.

"Well, I asked one of the monks to teach me meditation since it seemed to help them always be calm and cheerful. My teacher was a very kind man, an old and sweet-natured onager who especially enjoyed playing with the children. He was known for it. And his wisdom did help me as I grew older. It made me stronger, happier, and gave me more control over my lesser qualities."

He paused, then smiled in a way that clearly displayed his predator's fangs. "It _also_ gave me the courage to stand up to my father and threaten to kill him if he _ever_ hit our mother again. I was bigger than he was at that time and wouldn't back down. I knocked out one of his teeth and banged him up thoroughly at that confrontation." The monk shrugged matter-of-factly, but she could hear the satisfaction and conviction in his voice; apparently he hadn't completely overcome all vengeful and resentful thoughts in his nature. Not that she blamed him.

"Turns out karma was going to take him anyway," Achal continued, more than a bit smugly, "and two weeks later, he died in a bar brawl after starting something with some local criminals. I don't know the details, and I admit I was not particularly sorry to see him dead at the time. None of us were, really. It was more of a relief, and my brother and I could easily enough take care of Mother.

"Our sister married in a few years to a good man who adores our mother—as well he should! To our surprise, she had a knack for business and could read people like a scroll. Mother lives with the two of them now, running the family business. Shortly after that, I decided to follow my brother's advice and started looking for the peace and contentment that had eluded me for so long. He and the abbot had always been friendly, and they enjoyed exchanging barbs to see who could make the best. They did a lot of good for me, and so I want to at least do as much good to the world." He trailed off, gazing down into his lap where his paws had, probably by habit, formed the bowl shape so common to meditation. His eyes were still a mystery, gazing at something none of them could see, but she knew exactly how he felt.

"Are you happy?" Jia asked simply, when it seemed no more was forthcoming and even the sound of the falls had receded into the background.

"More than I was before, certainly. I'm happiest of all that I can now crack jokes." He laughed again, but she had a feeling his answer had more meaning, was not as flippant as it seemed, even if that sorrow and pain never left his eyes fully.

Nodding, the snow cat smiled sympathetically. "Yeah, laughter is important. I held onto my weirdness all of my life. It's how I got through...a lot of things. I had to please myself _some_ way, and now I use it to please others. Making my sister laugh means the world to me." She smiled lovingly at Mei Ling, who looked as astonished as she did flattered; but it was absolutely true, and even if there was far more that lay between them which needed healing and smoothing over, more they had to do for each other in the years ahead, in the end her simple statement covered it, really. Mei Ling leaned down and hugged her sister's leg affectionately, as she seemed to understand the same, and agree.

"Service to others is the highest calling any of us can answer, and it can bring the greatest contentment of all," the large golden cat intoned approvingly.

"Do you suppose we could convince Shou of that?" Crane asked after a moment, hesitantly. "If we could get past his need for revenge, I mean? Maybe it's just me, but it hasn't been lost on us how similar he and Tai Lung are in many ways." Jia had in fact noticed, though she'd been trying not to think about it, and Mei nodded too.

Achal inclined his head. "Very perceptive. And...I do not know, nothing in life is guaranteed. But I do have at least a little hope. After all, our natures are good by default. It is just a matter of realizing them. Remember the Eight-Fold Path: right view, right intention, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration. These are the means to eliminate hatred and delusion, among so many other things."

"Still, Tai Lung always believed in doing good," Mei Ling observed. "He was vainglorious by his own admission to be sure, but he also gave a lot of service to others before that horrible night. Shou has only ever worked towards his own end, from what we understand. It's very hard to divert someone from such a selfish course when they've been on it for so many years."

_Truer words were never spoken_ , Jia thought bitterly as she thought of Xiu, and their mother.

"Do you know the story of Angulimala?" Achal asked after a long, pensive moment.

Crane and Mei Ling nodded, but Jia was unfamiliar with the story and said so; it had come seemingly out of nowhere, but she suspected their fellow traveler had mentioned it for a very relevant reason, so she wanted to encourage him to speak. The monk gazed at her soberly, contemplatively, before he began, reciting the tale with consideration and care, pointed pauses and firm emphases at just the right places—either the feline was a born storyteller, or he had simply memorized the teachings from one who was. Possibly both.

"During the final lifetime of Lord Buddha, he met a man many thought to be a demon. He was feared far and wide. He was a lion of immense proportion and savagery. It is said that he came from Kashmir, gradually wandering down to northern India, naked, disheveled, his once glorious fur stained purposefully with blood. His name referred to the necklace of severed fingers he wore around his neck. There were supposedly 999, and he was searching for a thousandth. Lord Buddha was warned about him prowling in the area, but he was unconcerned, fully intending to intercept him from committing further murder.

"On the road, Angulimala discovered the Enlightened One and decided to claim his life. He gave chase, but no matter how fast he ran, Lord Buddha remained well out of his reach even though he was walking quite calmly. Angulimala finally called for the Buddha to stop, to which Buddha answered that he had already stopped and that it was Angulimala who was still running. He finally allowed the murderer to approach him but was perfectly placid.

"Angulimala asked the Buddha why he had no fear. The Holy One explained that his mind was at rest and that he was content in himself. He then went on to tell Angulimala about himself, how he was an anguished man taking his rage out on the world and denying his conscience. The murderer was astonished that this mendicant whom he had never met could know so much about him, about his troubled life and his pains. He perceived such compassion the likes of which none but his own mother had ever shown to him, but confronting one's pain can be very hard. One always runs from pain but also keeps it close enough for it to serve as a shield to others. Wanting no more uncomfortable discourse, Angulimala held up his butcher's knife and stated that he only wanted Buddha's fingers and finally his life.

"Freely, the Buddha offered them to make Angulimala happy. As he approached the killer, Angulimala stepped back. No one had ever willfully approached him before. Buddha asked what Angulimala hoped to achieve by all his troubles. Buddha finally touched the killer's head, and suddenly he felt the most sincere compassion course through his being. He saw all the faces of those who had tormented him over the years and the ones he had tormented. It was all hollow and fruitless; there was nothing satisfactory, soothing, pleasing or fulfilling in any of it. For every victory there was only more hunger. For every defeat, there was only sorrow and pain. For every injustice avenged, there was always a new thirst for redress. It was as stark a definition of _dukkha_ as one could hope to find."

The company sat in stunned quiet for several minutes, meditating on the meaning of the story...the implications, the possibilities. Crane dipped his bill, Mei clasped her paws, while Jia held her breath.

"Angulimala could no longer run," Achal continued at last, bringing the tale to its hopeful conclusion. "Since he had never met anyone truly contented in his life—and few of us ever shall—he fell to his knees with tears in his eyes and asked Lord Buddha to take him as a disciple. He would eventually attain Nirvana."

"What if it's just a story, though?" Jia wondered a bit sadly.

"It probably is just a legend," Achal said, gently. "That doesn't matter, as truth can be found in the unlikeliest of places, and the lessons we can glean from fiction are just as helpful on our path as any other—the value lies in how they change our thoughts and intentions, whether they inspire us, not in their accuracy and reality. You already have an example of a man coming back from the brink in Tai Lung. He wasn't the first; he will not be the last. Your objective is to help this Shou Feng, as it was for your spotted friend. The purpose of Life is to serve others on the way to Liberation. Service should be your goal, though, not Liberation. Desire for Liberation is a form of attachment itself. You'll find it when you're no longer looking or wishing for it." He paused, his wise and introspective look turning to one of searching and concern. "Is there anything I can do to help you in this?"

Crane rustled his feathers, startled and a bit diffident. "Um...that's a very generous offer, sir, but we wouldn't want to take you from your travels."

Jia exchanged a long look with her half-sister, then added, "Besides...I think you've already helped us, in ways neither you nor we can really know or explain."

The lion cocked his head to the side quizzically, then said, "My travels are itinerant, madam; chosen on the whim of the moment or wherever the spirit and the gods guide me. To put it more simply, I don't have any particular destination in mind. If you have need of me, whether to attempt to speak on your behalf or to offer you a willing ear to listen and a shoulder to lean upon, I am here." He paused again, a look of obscure pain crossing his face, and then he finished, softly but firmly, "And if it comes down to it, if we have no other recourse, I _do_ still know how to fight."

Again the snow leopardess glanced at the mountain cat; while Mei Ling was the mistress of the thousand scrolls, sanctioned by both the Kung Fu Council and Grand Master Shifu to act as needed and be a leader in the coming conflict, and was not the one still working to atone for past misdeeds, Jia was still the elder (albeit only by two years), and it had been her idea for them to go to Xinjiang in Tai Lung's place. The beige cat seemed to agree it was her decision, nodding imperceptibly.

"Sure," she said, brightly and without any reticence. "One more ally never hurts, especially one as powerful as you." She grinned and winked, raising an eyebrow, but privately, she knew he held far more power than just his physique.

"Excellent!" Achal smiled, then placed his paws back in his lap, eyes beginning to close. "Then if you will permit me to finish my meditation, while you partake of your repast…"

"Besides," Mei said, casually, "if you come with us, you can see the Thousand Buddha Caves. That'd have to be a feather in your, er, mane as far as your spirituality goes. And we _are_ trying to save them from Shou Feng, too."

"Indeed," the monk said, nodding amiably. "I have always wished to see them, to pray among them, and my abbot told me—" He broke off, as the rest of her words sank in. When he spoke again, his voice was low, with a surprisingly dark edge. "What...did you...say?"

Mei repeated her words, and Jia stared as, almost seeming not to move, Achal was suddenly standing before them at his full height, massive paws pressed into the earth and shoulders thrown back as he pushed his chest out fiercely. "Monstrous! How _dare_ he...he actually believes he can…"

After a few long moments in which he seemed to be counting to himself, or else simply meditating, the big feline closed his eyes, shuddered, and forced his paws to relax at his sides. Then he gathered up the robe that hung from his waist, tying it deftly over his shoulders once more and thrusting his right arm through it in the traditional manner. "Forgive me. I almost forgot myself, there. Even for me, remaining true to the Precepts can be difficult, as it is for any who has not achieved Enlightenment." Shaking his maned head, he forced a smile, but there was still a menacing cast to his shadowed features.

"But I stand by what I said. While the proper course is to save this warlord, to find peace for him as well as for China, it behooves us to at least attempt to prevent such desecration. Their destruction would bring pain to many, myself included. For that reason alone this is a worthy endeavor. If we cannot persuade him, and they are to be destroyed...then so be it." At their startled gasps, Achal held up a paw somberly and continued with a sigh.

"Bezeklik is an artistic marvel, a place of pilgrimage, wonderful for all those reasons and more. But it is after all only temporary and impermanent, like all else in this world. It is not worth dying over…" His eyes flashed. "Still, that does _not_ mean I will allow it to fall without any defense whatsoever. And either way, we must keep the people safe, and ensure no more lose their lives upon the blades of his men. I insist upon accompanying you."

So saying, he turned with a sweep of his saffron robes, looking down the loess hills toward where the river, lit by the rays of sunset, flowed northward and the Qilangwo Bridge arched across to the opposite bank like the rainbow above it. "Let's go."

Jia looked at Crane and Mei, both of whom seemed stunned by this sudden development, but since it was quite clear the lion had made up his mind and there was no way any of them would turn down such an offer anyway, the snow leopardess gestured to them to bring the fruit and nuts they'd gathered on the mountain slopes to add to what was already in their packs; they'd eat on the road.

Coming up beside Achal, she hesitated; on the one paw, his enthralling story and the lesson it taught showed he was as balanced and kind-hearted as any of his profession should be. On the other paw, after being told of the threat Shou posed, he might not be as forgiving as he had been a few minutes ago. "Holy One?" she ventured at last.

"Yes, my child?" His tone wasn't testy, but it was firm, and a bit distracted.

"You know how you said everyone deserves a chance at forgiveness, to change and be shown a better path so they can be pulled back from the brink?" She bit her lip.

For several moments he remained still. Then he nodded as he began leading the way down the path with long, unflagging strides. "Of course. Though I still have my fiery temper, it does not mean I have abandoned the way. Even monks can become angry when faced with injustice and hypocrisy, or for the reasons anyone does; no one is perfect. And even a jackass can save the world." His muzzle twitched in a half-grin.

So far, so good. "Then could you tell me...what would you think if I told you about someone who never once showed remorse, never showed any kind of good feelings...who did all kinds of terrible, horrible things, and either wasn't bothered by them one bit or even enjoyed them? And made others do them, too, just to get what they wanted, because they could? Would you say they, too, deserved forgiveness?"

Achal stayed silent for a long time; she wondered if he were gathering his thoughts and choosing what words were best to convey them, if he was struggling with giving her the answer she wanted to hear (whichever that was…), or with giving her the one she didn't want, or if he just didn't have an answer. Finally, though, he spoke, his words as soft as the sound of his paws upon the river stones.

"Of course," he answered simply. "To forgive merely means to stop being angry for an infraction committed. Anger is a very dangerous thing if not released, though it is very hard to let go of as you well know." He looked a bit rueful and strained. Jia suspected the monk was reflecting on his own life. "The longer it is held onto, the harder it is to let go, and the more it turns to poison. If the rumors I heard are true, the people of the Valley almost killed an innocent man because they could not let go of their anger—and they are people otherwise commonly thought of as good and fortunate."

"They were being egged on, though," Jia gently reminded him. The rest of the Five had told her all about it, when Po returned with them from Wu Dan, and in any event the sisters had always known that aspect of Chao's plans.

"That is true, but that _chi_ wizard was drawing upon flaws, emotions, and beliefs that were already there," Achal pointed out as he glanced sidelong at her, his grim, resolute face becoming once more sympathetic, solicitous and earnest. "There is no way to escape the fruits of karma. Even the gods are not exempt. Tai Lung probably understands that better than most, and it is to his credit that in the end he was able and willing to face them. The people of the Valley ended up paying for theirs."

Jia sighed a bit dejectedly and nodded. "I think they got that, eventually. They treated Tai Lung—well, like crap, for so long. If they hadn't, I don't think he'd have gone nuts like he did, or been so ready to turn on them. It seems we're just as much a product of our own choices as we are of others', and that's true no matter whose point of view you look at it from."

"I'm afraid that is very true, my child. If you can even ask the questions, though, you already know what to do, what is right. You just want confirmation. We cannot help feeling what we feel, and we naturally want to react. How we choose to be affected by what happens to us and how we choose to respond is up to each of us. Let not your heart be troubled...when the time is right, and if you listen to your conscience, you will know what to do."

He placed a heavy, warm paw on her shoulder, squeezed it slightly, and glanced back at the others. His last words before he slipped back into meditative silence once more were rather pointed, though. "I think you also know that no one is completely beyond goodness, has never felt or expressed joy, kindness, compassion, or goodwill—even if only for a moment. Remember that before you decide."

Jia flinched at the rebuke, as mild and gentle as it was, then glanced back too. Crane fluttered his wings and smiled at her encouragingly; from the look on Mei Ling's muzzle, she knew exactly what her sister had been conversing with Achal about, but instead of scorn or frustration, her brown eyes only held worry and concern. She sighed and looked away...because she knew the monk was right about one thing, at least.

Xiu had _not_ been merciless, ruthless, and without a drop of empathy or understanding. Not completely...

" _I thought I'd find you here."_

_Jia looked up with a start, flinching instinctively—as much because of what she'd been caught gazing at as at whom that voice belonged to. Oddly, though, her sister didn't sound as condescending, cruel, and mocking as she normally did...instead far more pensive, quiet, and subdued. She stood in the doorway of the storeroom, the one that led onto the back porch belonging to their family home in the Himalayas, overlooking what had once been the mansion's rich and stately gardens...now allowed to go to seed, more wild and jungle-like._

_Even the house itself was no longer the same, its paint allowed to fade to drab hues, its wooden beams become rough and dark rather than brightly polished, most of its decorations taken down and stowed away (or else allowed to simply hang from walls and ceilings at strangely canted angles, sometimes creaking and swaying unsettlingly in the moaning mountain winds). Everything was shadowed, dusty, and still, especially this room. But it hadn't taken her much searching before she'd found the item she held in her slender paws._

_It was a small ceramic bowl, one she'd shaped herself when she was a cub before firing it in their private kiln. (Qing had a number of servants and laborers that she retained right on their property, such as forgers and potters, because she did not wish to descend the mountain and mingle with the common folk.) Although simple and somewhat crude, it still held an elegant shape and had a lovely sheen...and it was also marked with the hanzi for "Mama." She was still surprised Qing hadn't thrown it down in a tantrum and shattered it for not giving her the proper respect and honor; had the woman been making a lone exception because of Jia's tender age, or could she have possibly been less tyrannical and more loving back then…?_

" _Those days we spent here seem so long ago," she replied at last, voicing her thoughts uncertainly. "So much has changed…"_

_For a moment Xiu's lip curled as she gazed down at the bowl, but then her expression slackened and she looked away, her paw gripping the door frame. "I see you still can't let go of the past," she said with arch sarcasm...but there was something else in her voice she'd never heard there before._

_Jia let out a frustrated growl. "We just finished sending her away to Fēng Diān not half an hour ago, and you're acting like it's ancient history or something! She might as well be cold in her grave, after what's happened to her, and you want to let it go just like that?"_

_To her shock, Xiu's cold blue eyes actually looked hurt for a split second, before she covered it with her typical dismissive, callous indifference. "Yes, you're right, of course, but there's nothing to be done about it. So why waste time dwelling on it? She's of no further use to us anyway." Before her younger sibling could do more than gasp at this calculating assessment of value, she went on with a raised eyebrow. "Besides, why should you care? You were always the one who wanted to get away from her and the assassin's life, and she was always hardest on you. She practically spat on you in contempt all your time here."_

_Clenching her fingers around the bowl, Jia fought back tears and bit her lip. "She was still my mother. And...and it wasn't **all** like that…"_

_The eldest Wu Sister paused, regarding her coolly as if she were some curious specimen, but then she sighed. "No. No, it wasn't. And for your information, my dear, it **was** rather difficult to sign the release papers. I just don't see any reason to think about it. What's done is done."_

_Jia could still see it in her mind's eye...see the once grand, proud, richly-adorned noble reduced to a shrieking, cursing, wild-eyed madwoman, her hair toppled and tangled in complete disarray, her ostentatious dress torn to tatters as dirtied as her face, makeup smearing the fur around her eyes and mouth as she babbled endless diatribes against her, Wu Xuan, Xu Mei, the Emperor, or even faces only she could see, voices only she could hear. How she had struggled and fought against the asylum attendants as they dragged her down the front steps, screeching like an enraged spirit, until finally her arms were bound behind her in a special intricately-wrapped garment and she was shoved unceremoniously into the waiting carriage, where her cries were blessedly silenced. It had been horrifying even as it was deeply satisfying, shocking and unsettling yet somehow quite fitting. Was it any wonder she'd wanted to flee, take futile refuge in the walls of their old home, if only for a short while?_

" _I know," she finally forced herself to say, her voice tinier and quieter than ever. "But...it's gonna take me some time. Let me get over it on my own, okay, Xiu?"_

_The blue-eyed snow leopardess pressed her mouth together, paws clenching briefly at her sides. "What has gotten into you? Do you think if she still had her mind, if she were here, she'd care? All you're doing is tormenting yourself for no good reason. You're being weak again, Jia, the same reason she would never truly accept you as her daughter. It's not like she actually cared about you—she probably wished on more than one occasion that she'd only had twins instead of triplets."_

_She couldn't help it; even if it was true, even if there had been times she'd secretly wished she was Mei Ling's full sister...or didn't even exist at all...to hear it stated with such stark clarity made her burst into tears._

_What was even more startling to her than her grief, though, was when after a few moments of staring at her with an uncomfortable look, Xiu actually moved to her side and took her in her arms. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. But really though, after what she did to you, I don't understand how you can still…" She trailed off, unable to find the words._

**_Of course you don't. You never could, and you never will_ ** _. Somehow that thought made her sadder than ever. And yet, this embrace… Hiccuping a final sob, she violently brushed away her tears and cried, "So that's it, huh? Now...when she's finally gone, when she can't do anything to us ever again, it's only **now** that you finally show a shred of human decency? That you admit she was a horrible, vindictive bitch who never should have been a mother?!"_

" _I never said that," Xiu replied firmly, if a little too quickly. "She was harsh, yes, but she had to be to instill the proper lessons. A dutiful daughter would have thanked her for her training, and asked for more. Like I did." Her back was straight and proud, a fiendish smile on her lips...but then it faltered, and her eyes flicked away. "However...I'm sure you've heard of 'too much of a good thing'? Just because we needed the education and preparation for our profession...for facing the real world...doesn't mean she never went too far with us—you." The slip and verbal backspace put a catch in her voice._

" _Y-you mean it?" Jia stared at her in disbelief, but with a faint kindling of hope. "But I thought—then why didn't you—?"_

" _Because there wouldn't have been any point," the other snow leopardess answered steadily, and she couldn't tell what that was in her tone—regret? Surely not. No, more like resignation. "Because I did approve of most of what she did, if not how she did it. Because it was, quite honestly, a great deal of fun to watch." The nasty smirk slipped away, and her next words were whispered, barely audible. "When it was someone else on the block."_

_In the next moment her voice was back to normal as she stepped back from her with a sneer on her muzzle. "Because even once I realized it, there was nothing I could do. You really expect me to have stood up to her, when she would have disowned me? Could have had me publicly shamed and humiliated, or worse? Would have upped the ante and only treated you and Chun all the worse? No."_

_She shook her head and half-turned away, arms crossed severely over her chest as she gazed out into the overgrown gardens. "It was better to leave things as they were. Let her make you strong, make all of us strong. And then do away with her when we didn't need her any more, when she couldn't hurt us any longer. So don't say I never did anything for you."_

_Jia let her jaw hang open at this. She actually had the audacity to claim what Qing had done to them, to her, had been **good** for them? That the ends justified the means? And then turn around and take such twisted pleasure, not only in Jia's lifelong treatment but also in locking their mother up for the rest of her life? Not that this should surprise her, or was out-of-character for Xiu at all, but she thought even Xiu had some scruples, some lines she would not cross. _

_And yet...and yet...on some level she couldn't deny her sister was right. That there really wasn't anything she could have done to stop Qing— **Offering me even a bit of comfort and sympathy would have been nice, though!** —and that locking their mother away when her mind had snapped and all sanity had been lost really had been good for Jia. For all of them._

_Looking down into the bowl she still held as if it were a lifeline for her, as if the answers she sought so desperately could be found in it, she said softly, "I...I know. You're right about all those things, too. But...but now I'm all alone. Mother's been put away, Father is dead..." She didn't bother to mention that Xiu was to blame for the latter—partly because that was a lost cause, she'd seen how useless it was to do so over the past few years, but also because she knew she was as much to blame for that._

" _That's where you're wrong," Xiu stated simply. "You've still got me, and Chun."_

_Jia blinked._

" _We're all that's left, the only Wus of the clan, the only assassins of our line." As haughty and imperious as her tone and posture were, there was actually a genuine welcome to her words. An inclusiveness and camaraderie, a sense of solidarity. "We should stick together, don't you think?"_

**_Not like I have anywhere to go now, thanks to you_ ** _, she thought bitterly. But they were still good words, true words, words she needed to hear. The only thing she had left, now. And however she had gotten here and why, whatever Qing and Xiu had done to make it so, her sister was right about one more thing: the past was done, only the future mattered now. She had to make the most of it...and even if this was just a momentary flash of conscience and not a sign of a change in their relationship, at least she'd still have Chun. There was a chance...a way to be true to herself, as Father had wanted, even if she couldn't do right. It was, she told herself again, all she had._

_Carefully, as if it were a sacred relic of the gods, Jia set the bowl down on a shelf. **I'm sorry, Mother. I wish I could have been a better daughter to you, been what you wanted. If I had, maybe I could have saved you.**_

" _Come on," Xiu said, not unkindly, "before I decide to put a torch to everything here. This place is depressing." And she turned and led the way down the steps, toward the one clear graveled path that would take them back down to the village, away from this house and everything it stood for—but she still held out her paw to her._

Eyes gazing at the forests and mountains, hills and ledges, mist-covered river and winding valleys that lay ahead of them as they moved away from the bridge on the far side of the Huang He...a landscape as filled now with descending shadows as that evening in the Himalayas ten years ago...Jia felt the tears running through her cheek fur and this time did not brush them away. No. Xiu had been a monster in the end, if not all of their lives, as insane in her own ways as Qing; she had made her do things that tore her apart to think about; and she had committed crimes on her own even worse than the murder of their father, if less personal.

But there had been more to her, once, when Jia allowed herself to be honest and admit it. Things she had cast aside, rejected as pitiful weaknesses, without once looking back on them with regret any more than she had repented her misdeeds. Yet like Tai Lung's nobility and heroic heart that had let him be redeemed, they had been there.

Were they enough? Could _any_ thing truly have been enough?

Onward they traveled, heading ever northward into the deeper reaches of Shaanxi, until the roaring of the falls faded behind them...a pounding rhythm she swore she could still hear miles and hours later, the drums of the gods beating in impending judgment—though for whom, she could not say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More _Avatar: the Last Airbender_ shout-outs: Jia and her pink aura, and the flashback to the scene at Wu Qing's mansion which is a direct reference to the scene in "The Beach" where Azula showed a rare moment of kindness and understanding to Zuko at their Ember Island home, only expanded into a much larger and more critical emotional moment for the sisters.
> 
> Achal Balaji (whose name is Sanskrit for "the strong, immovable one") is of course the lion monk who was mentioned briefly in ADL as someone Tigress once had a crush on; exactly how, why, and when they met each other, I will leave to your imaginations. But overall, his stories and actions here make reference to a number of well-known Buddhist fables and legends—Angulimala most obviously, and there will be others in the upcoming chapters.
> 
> Finally, a few last tidbits. The rather impassioned speech about assassins Chun gave to Xuan was inspired by one Sadi made to Silk in David Eddings' _Malloreon_ ; _niangpi_ is a traditional Qinghai food, a type of spicy flour peel snack; and Lo Shen is the Chinese goddess of rivers.
> 
> As for the fact I have chosen to parallel the story of how the trio hopes to save Shou himself (as well as China) from his revenge with Jia's conflicted feelings toward Xiu...that came about because, as was made clear to me, I had been rather unfair to Xiu in ADL. Not that she wasn't a wicked villain you could cheer to see go down, but pretty much every other antagonist in the story either got redeemed, got a second chance, or was at least shown sympathetically at one time or another. I initially did this both to differentiate her from Azula and to give you one character you could have no qualms seeing beaten and humiliated without the complexity and moral quandaries the others had. (Not that you couldn't be equally pleased to see what happened to Chao, but his former good self did offer at least a small window for compassion and regret.) However, making her the only character this was true of, in a story with so many strong redemptive elements, really made Xiu stand out, and not in a good way. So...I decided to rectify that. Am I Draco-ing her? No, she still did horrible things, loved every moment of it, and remained a crazy bitch to the end. But as you'll see when you meet Qing, there was more to her upbringing and how she became what she did...enough that while she cannot ever truly be forgiven, certainly not until she actually repents of her crimes, it is okay to pity her to some degree, just as we did Azula (if in a different manner). At the very least, it becomes another aspect of my quest to show how difficult and painful life can be when confronted with such people and choices, and it lets Jia appear even more heroic and good-hearted, even if she can't ever succeed.


	3. Chapter 3

For the next three weeks, the company made their way ever north and westward, traversing the rest of Shaanxi and then crossing into Gansu, following first the Yellow River, then the Great Wall, then the river again as they curved through the narrow province. Although the countryside was not as beautiful and alive as that to the south and east, it was still dotted with fabulous landmarks: the forested peak of Mount Maiji and the Binglingsi Grottoes tucked in above the river's broad, placid waters, both adorned with countless frescoes and carved with ancient statues and stairways; the red-painted timbers and trapezoidal golden roofs of Haizang Temple; and of course the legendary gate through the Great Wall at Jiayuguan Pass, guarded by the lonely watchtowers that loomed above it so as to look out toward the desolate Gobi beyond.

Yet somehow Jia couldn't focus much on any of these wonders, and she didn't think her companions (other than Achal) could either. There was far too much on their minds, either about the past or the very near future, and even conversations with the stolid lion monk could not completely drive these worries away.

Not that it was for lack of trying on his part. Whether it was regaling them with tales of India's vast lands, natural bounty, and peoples; quizzing Crane about life at the Jade Palace; encouraging Mei Ling to tell of her travels and kung fu adventures across the empire; filling them in on the interesting historical tidbits about the places they passed which were not common knowledge to most travelers; or describing how he had traversed China's many provinces, from far-flung Kashgar to the capital where he had a personal audience with Chen himself, Achal seemed determined to entertain them and provide them with countless windows into lives and places beyond their experiences—or at least to keep the roads, inns, and campsites they frequented from descending into uncomfortable silence.

But even the lion's gregariousness could not last forever, and eventually he descended into more and more meditative silences, although Jia wasn't certain if he was brooding, contemplating what lay in store for them in Huozhou, trying to contact the divine, or simply saddened by everyone's emotional state. So they all stayed quiet, other than the modicum of interaction needed to communicate when discussing their route or planning and preparing meals—although whenever Crane went fishing in the Huang He or up in the mountain peaks, there was always a flurry of excited activity, and all of them (but especially Achal) pitched in to prepare the catch for cooking. While both Jia and Mei were passable chefs, and Crane was quite skillful, the Buddhist proved ingenious when it came to both the means of cooking fish and vegetables and the unusual combinations of spices he employed. So it was that at least the meals were interesting, and allowed for some pleasant companionship.

Eventually, as they wound their way along the Silk Road and into eastern Xinjiang, the land began to change, becoming drier, hotter, and more desolate. Not that it was impossible to live there, or even to find food, water, and shelter, but it was certainly more bleak and grim on the surface than the rest of China. At the same time, Jia found herself feeling more at home, for even if the mountains of Qinghai were more moist and vibrant, there were enough similarities that if she hadn't already been thinking of Xu Mei and Xuan, and her mother and eldest sister, she would have been inspired to do so now.

She also couldn't help finding the land beautiful in its own right, whether in the weird shapes of the rock formations that had been battered and worn by the wind (and, so one of her teachers at Li Dai had said, by water when this region had once been an inner sea), the unusual hues in the rugged mountains, and even the desolate dunes of the Taklamakan that had appeared to the southwest and were becoming more and more prominent with each passing mile. It was barren and lifeless in many places, save where the river and oases provided enough water to support crops and flowering plants alike, but its emptiness somehow felt comforting, as if here in this distant, almost secretive landscape she could avoid the pain, loss, and uncertainty that plagued her in more populated areas.

What was the cruelty of 'civilization' when compared with a place such as this, where the weather itself was far more harsh and likely to take your life? But at the same time, there was no malice in it, no premeditated plot, no need to assert authority or superiority over another—you knew what to expect, all were equally likely to live or die, nothing was wanted from you...and if you knew how to survive, how to balance your needs with what the land provided and meted out, you could actually thrive here.

_So...now I don't just act like a cactus in battle, I am one?_ Jia couldn't help but grin to herself.

Day after day the company traveled, making sure to take shelter from both the blazing sun and the bitterly cold, windswept nights, something which became far easier as the Tian Shan began to rise to the north of the road. Achal either divested himself of his upper robe or tied and wrapped it securely depending on the temperature, while whenever the sun set the rest of them made use of the cloaks and thicker hanfu they had made sure to pack back in the Valley, seeing as their usual garb was perfectly suited to the hot desert days. (Jia had to feel sorry for Crane, however, seeing as his thin frame was hardly insulated enough to retain much heat, even with his feathers and clothing, resulting in him shivering and wrapping both wings and cloak close whenever darkness fell. On the other paw, this usually resulted in him and Mei Ling cuddling for warmth, which she found absolutely adorable.)

But then, as they penetrated deeper into the cracked hardpan and sandy soil that marked the northern reaches of the Taklamakan, where villages struggled to survive and the infrequent oases, as well as the few rivers flowing down from distant plateaus and basins, were as essential to their people's health and independence as the traders from the west's countless goods were, the peaks that loomed above them to their right began to change their character. And Jia wasn't the only one who found herself emerging from gloom and uncertainty, instead filled with wonder and awe.

As they topped a rise and gazed down into the bowl of the next valley to the west, the slopes of the Tian Shan soared upward, towering above the land—land that would broil in the desert heat during the day, but thanks to the sun hovering at the horizon it had currently faded to only the usual summer oppressiveness. The mountains here were strangely shaped as well, gullies and trenches running from peaks to base in channel after channel, as if a god had reached down, dug his fingers into the sandstone, and dragged downward to the ground again and again. The red hue of the rock was only augmented by the sun's setting rays which seemed to pour and ripple in each of the deeply-chiseled grooves, so that it seemed as if the mountains were not only on fire but had tongues and tendrils of it rippling and racing along their slopes. It was a breathtaking sight...and rather unsettling too.

"The Flaming Mountains," Crane breathed, beak parted and hanging open.

"They really are as amazing as I'd heard they were," Mei Ling murmured.

Jia stayed silent, gazing up at the sheer rocky embankments and the cliffs which rose further still above them, simply taking it in in silence—until she saw something else that made her eyes goggle. "Oh my gods, look!" She pointed with one small paw, and as the others followed her finger, more exclamations filled the air, this time even from Achal, who had previously been simply admiring the mountains with a beatific expression.

For as the sun's rays angled across the ridged, broken surface of the nearest escarpment, they all could see something startling and, well, awesome embedded in its surface: the perfectly-preserved bones of some enormous, ancient creature. The snow leopardess didn't know as much about science as she wished, but even to her untrained eye she thought it was some sort of reptile.

Before she could voice her suspicion, Mei spoke again. "Is...is it a...dragon?"

Achal cupped a paw to his bearded chin and regarded the skeletal remains thoughtfully. "It's entirely possible."

Crane chuckled to himself. "If Po were here, he'd be all over that thing in a minute. Probably want to find some way to take it back to the Valley with him for his collection, or at least a piece of it."

Jia finally found her voice. "Well, good luck to him on that! Forget how big it is, it looks like somehow the bones have turned into part of the rock. No way anyone's getting them out undamaged, not without special tools anyway." She frowned; something about that sounded familiar. Something one of her teachers at Li Dai had said? Or was it in a book her father gave her?

"Huh." The mountain cat shook her head in bemusement, rousing herself out of the somber, serious mien she'd borne since they left Hubei. "Life sure can be full of surprises. And even things you think you know about, like famous places like this, can have more to them than you knew."

"Makes you wonder if all the stories are true, doesn't it?" Jia grinned at her winsomely. "I mean, sure, it just _looks_ like they're burning, when the sun hits them just right, but…"

Crane scoffed a bit. "Just because _some_ of the myths and legends are true doesn't mean they _all_ are, you know. We've met a _chi_ wizard and _yaoguai_ , and there are all manner of things in the scrolls back at the Jade Palace that Master Oogway always insisted were absolute truth, no matter how incredible they seemed. But he also had mountains of books written by very learned men, ones who tried to understand the world and not simply just assume the most mystical explanation was true. And he always taught us to follow reason and logic as much as faith and intuition."

"Well said," Achal rumbled. "A balance to all things, Yin and Yang. While we must learn to let go of our attachments, that does not mean there is no value to learning how things of this world function."

"Yeah," Mei said, crossing her arms as she gazed up at the slopes. "I mean, I bet those gullies and trenches were just made by erosion. Water running down, thousands of years ago."

"With soil and stone rubbing," the waterfowl added. "And even frost from the cold nights here, cracking the rock."

They were all silent a few moments, and then Jia giggled, her voice pert and her tone as arch as ever. " _Or_ ," she said, drawing out the word, "the Monkey King really _did_ knock over the kiln of the heavens when he was traveling with Xuanzang, spilling its embers into the desert. Or maybe those bones mean there really _was_ a dragon, and its blood turned into that scarlet mountain, and the eight pieces it got cut up into became eight valleys. You never know!"

Achal let out his familiar belly laugh again, which only seemed to grow louder, deeper, and more hearty as Mei let out a rather cute grumble and Crane buried his face in one wing.

Unfortunately, the companionable silence they all fell into after his laughter had died out was not to last...because Mei, who had turned away to roll her eyes with exaggerated care, suddenly stiffened. "Well, there's one thing I do know. Someone else has been making walls of fire here, and I don't think it was a dragon or a trickster god."

Jia and the others turned to look where she had indicated, and the former assassin clapped a paw to her mouth, stricken. There, off to the west, along the road they would soon be following, a plume of dark, greasy black smoke rose high over the desert into the reddish-orange skies...skies which were now far more ominous and disturbing with what they implied.

After they had all stood staring quietly for some time, Crane was the one who ventured to speak. "Is that…?"

"I'm afraid it is," Achal said, just as softly. "Huozhou. Or perhaps Turfan, but even then, Huozhou is the next stop on the Silk Road and soon to suffer the same fate."

"Then we'd better get there as soon as we can," Jia said firmly. "The army and the Council's gonna need our help—" _Not that they really deserve it!_ "—and the sooner Shou knows someone from the Palace is here, the sooner we can put a stop to the fighting and make him see reason."

Each of the others nodded, though she thought her sister looked quite dubious at this prospect, and together they stepped up their pace—galvanized as much by the dissipation of the oppressive heat as nightfall approached as by what they had seen—leaving the mysterious relic and its cliffside behind.

By the time they had reached the final bend before Huozhou, the sun had nearly set, leaving the sky a throat of deep blue-violet and indigo rather than the hues of blood, but that didn't keep them from seeing what lay ahead...for not only did the moon and stars add their light to the desolate flats, but a halo of red and orange flickered above the last hilltop, indicating the fires of war still raged beyond, and even the smoke was still visible whenever it drifted across the face of the moon. Growing more fearful, determined, and furious as the moments passed, the company hurried along the road until they reached the crest of the rise...and what they beheld beyond met their worst expectations.

Of course, they had known the city would be ablaze, and so it was—those sandstone buildings which hadn't become chimneys of blazing heat ash-blackened by the scorching flames were collapsed into rubble, or else being plundered by the silhouetted figures easily seen against this nightmarish backdrop...wielding scimitars, spears, axes and swords, as well as weapons stranger and unknown to Jia at least, as they sacked each dwelling for money, food, supplies, whatever booty they could find and carry. Either the occupants had already fled or perished, for the most part (although she wouldn't put it past the mercenaries to be holding some of them for ransom)...but in at least a few places she could see some who hadn't managed to escape.

Begging, pleading desperately for their possessions and their lives...she spied one such being backhanded to sprawl in the road, another hoisted off their feet by their robes to be shaken brutally in the air, a third simply run through by a blade without even a pause for thought. She even saw children's small bodies darting away in mortal terror, or else frozen in the street, wailing to the stars that twinkled incongruously above...and as soon as she spied a clearly feminine figure being dragged toward an alley by a hulking brute, only her sense of self-preservation (telling her that attempting to face the whole army by herself was suicide) kept her from racing down the hill into the destructive madness.

Yet even beyond all this, she couldn't ignore that vast carpet of men which completely covered the road at the base of the hill below them—two clearly different groups clashing in armed conflict. One looked far more rowdy and undisciplined, their lines completely disorganized and composed of fighters who seemed to have no particular strategy in mind, simply hacking and slashing with impunity; she frowned, as most mercenaries had at least some semblance of order to them if they wished to accomplish anything beyond random chaos.

Had Shou been that desperate, or that short of good men, that he'd been forced to hire savages from the steppes? Were these men impatient for the rich spoils they'd been promised, even angry at being diverted from the Valley, and so taking it out on the hapless townspeople? Had they once been disciplined and well-trained, but had lost this edge as they became tired of waiting, eager to conquer and plunder? Was there some method to their madness she hadn't seen? Or were they simply that bloodthirsty and sadistic, once Shou let them off their leash? She shuddered.

The other group, of course, was far more orderly and carefully deployed across the battlefield in lines and ranks—and also easily identified in the firelight by their Imperial uniforms—but even they looked to be more uncontrolled and vicious than she'd expected. Either they, too, were desperate, having found their enemy to be far worse than they'd bargained for, or they'd discovered such tactics were necessary to even combat the mercenaries, let alone win. The fact she wasn't sure which would be worse made her uneasy…

Many of the fighters had gone down, never to rise again from the blood-soaked ground, while others had been so badly injured as to be forced to retreat to safety—the mercenaries heading for a vast encampment which lay behind a wall of desert stones that had been erected across the road on the southwestern side of Huozhou, the soldiers scaling a series of steps that had been chiseled from the peaks of Gaochang to the northwest.

She could just see the flickering light of torches bathing the ledge where the steps debouched, an enormous expanse of flat but uneven rock that dropped away into sandy slopes; above that, her feline night vision let her detect the dim shapes of square-cut structures fronted by walls and parapets overlooking the gorge and valley, rising in turn within a vast grotto worn out of the Flaming Mountains' weirdly-eroded cliffs. The Caves of Bezeklik. Part of her was appalled the Imperials had chosen to desecrate the holy shrines and murals by locating their base camp there, but there really wasn't anywhere else with the height and security to withstand any sort of siege. _And what better way to protect the caves?_

The others came to a stop beside her, regarding the scene with a gamut of emotions—despair, confusion, worry, resentment—but although Achal's eyes did blaze with a light that wasn't merely a reflection of the flames, she saw the lion was otherwise still, calm, and rational, taking in every detail with alacrity, insight, and thoughtfulness; for all that he was a mendicant and peaceful follower of Buddha, it was clear he did indeed have some form of martial training and prowess, at least enough to devise tactics and observe an enemy force's strengths and weaknesses. Suddenly she found herself smiling at what would happen when the burly feline encountered the Kung Fu Council, particularly its younger, more belligerent and impatient members…

After all of them had had time to take everything in, see just what it was they and the rest of China faced here—in the darkness it was hard to count, but she was fairly sure both sides were fairly evenly matched, and numbered in multiple hundreds, perhaps even close to a thousand each!—Mei Ling sighed heavily.

"Well...at least now we know why Master Thundering Rhino and the others were so worried. Even with our numbers, there's a good chance these mercenaries can do a lot of damage to the empire before they're stopped—not just cities and people, but the croplands too. And that's assuming they _can_ be stopped. Numbers don't win a battle, and it looks like these men have passion, greed, and maybe a little hate on their side. Even the best general in the world isn't going to be able to withstand that...not without losing a lot of men, anyway."

Crane nodded slowly, eyes wide, bill hanging open...but after swallowing hard, he made a comment that showed he hadn't been completely daunted or frozen into paralyzed indecision. It was also extremely incisive...and disquieting. "What I don't see, though, is this secret weapon Shou was backing up his threats with. Where is it, and why isn't he using it yet?"

Jia frowned, but in the night's cloaking shadows she couldn't discern anything large, bulky, or otherwise ominous in size. Of course the weapon could be smaller than they had expected, but… "I don't know, Jien. Maybe it comes apart, and they haven't put it together yet? Or I guess it could be around the road, hidden by the cliffs, out in the sand dunes…"

"It could have been a bluff," Achal said slowly. "Or it might be something he is reluctant to use—because it is as dangerous to use for him and his men as it is for us, or because it takes time to build and employ. But he might simply be withholding it to increase the surprise and suspense...make us defeat ourselves with our own fears and imaginings." He paused, then let his shoulders slump a bit. "I am afraid, however, that it is more likely he is overconfident, brash and arrogant enough to believe he does not need it. And that sort will be even harder to sway, or to stop. Also, if his confidence is not misplaced…" He trailed off, but he didn't have to finish the thought.

Gazing back down to the valley floor, her sister set her jaw and shook her head, black-rimmed ears twitching noticeably. "Well, it looks like we'll soon find out. The fighting seems to be breaking up for the night...so once we can make it into the gorge, we'll be able to speak to the Council and find out if they know any more about what we're up against."

Peering down as well, the snow leopardess saw that Mei was right; as if by unspoken agreement—but more likely the fact that even with the backlight from the fire it was getting far too difficult for the fighters to see; there didn't seem too many on either side with that sort of night vision—the Imperials and the mercenaries were withdrawing. And while she was heartened to see the Chinese were escorting survivors from Huozhou in their midst, offering them blankets, food, and first aid as they led or even carried them back toward the grotto's heights, just as many were dragged off screaming and struggling by the warlord's men, bound in ropes and chains to be sold into slavery or for other darker purposes she didn't want to think about. And even more lay where they had been slain, in the crackling, smoldering ruins that had once been their homes.

As the combatants dispersed, leaving the way clear to reach their destination (so long as they didn't mind picking their way through the dead and dying…), Jia clenched her jaw just as her sister had. _This is the last time. The last night of fighting and killing. They're not going to get away with this again, because I'm going to make sure Shou Feng is stopped. One way or another._

By the time they had scaled the heights of Gaochang and reached the ledge that fronted Bezeklik, full night had fallen, and while the fires which had claimed Huozhou still burned, they had fallen into embers and ground-level flames thanks to much of their fuel having been consumed. So the only light which illuminated the desert was the moonlight that reflected off the pale sands, but the peak itself was lit by torches on stanchions set at frequent intervals along the ledge, as well as inside the various caves carved from the rocky walls of the grotto. Each rather resembled a little house, with windows and doorways that let the light within spill out in a surprisingly welcome and homey fashion, and she could just see some of the arched ceilings that separated each interior into walls for the murals that had made this place famous.

At the moment, however, that wasn't her concern and there wasn't a chance to investigate, however much Achal wanted to. Because as soon as the soldiers manning the heights had caught sight of them, the parapets had begun bristling with suspicious eyes and hands wielding weapons, or itching to do so. Once the lieutenant in charge had demanded they identify themselves or else be considered part of the invader's forces, Mei Ling had brought out the standard of the Jade Palace which Shifu had insisted they take with them for just such an eventuality. And as soon as it was recognized by its distinctive shade of green, stylized tortoise shell, and the hanzi for "excellence of self", they'd been admitted through the gates and taken at once to meet with the Kung Fu Council, as well as the commanding general of this army division.

The center of command for this impromptu fortress was housed in the largest of the mural-adorned caves, its walls now lined by barrels of food and ammunition, racks of weapons, lanterns and torches (both lit and unlit), extra bedding, and all manner of other supplies. A small wooden table stood in the center of the cave, its aged, roughly-hewn surface covered with rolls of parchment, bottles of ink, bowls of sand for drying, and stones to be used as paperweights; one scroll lay open, and at a glance Jia could tell it showed a map of the gorge and valley, with notations marking Bezeklik, Huozhou, and the fortifications and defenses for both the Han and the invaders. They were written with a swift, firm, no-nonsense hand, the sort that indicated both little room for patience and dithering but also extreme competence.

Which perfectly matched the military man who currently stood on the other side of the table, paws clasped behind his back, a seemingly calm and contemplative pose belied by how ripples and bulges ran up and down his bare arms every now and then whenever he flexed them, paws clearly gripping his wrists each time they did so. The tiger standing before them was bigger than any she had ever seen, even Shang—and that along with other details of his appearance gave her a pretty good idea just who this was.

The cat's fur was so light, he almost looked completely white, but for dark brown stripes following the contours of his body. He was dressed in dark-colored thick woolen robes, heavy ornamental shoulder guards with matching gauntlets (and a burnished helmet sitting on the table in front of him), and a fur-lined red cape covered his shoulders, garb that would be extremely hot and oppressive during the day unless he stayed out of the sun in these cool caverns, but in the desert night they were actually quite appropriate.

She wagered the cat's age to be no more than sixty, but his penetrating stare, thick build, and the overall clearness of his features was misleading. There were few wrinkles on the otherwise weather-beaten face, and the sternness deeply etched into his features—marred only slightly by the few lines around eyes and mouth that suggested smiles and even laughter on occasion—only made the firm determination in his green-gold eyes all the more impressive and heartening. He certainly presented quite a contrast to the rich, bright paint of the life-size _Pranidhi_ Buddha in the mural covering the rocky wall behind him.

When the man spoke at last, it was in a voice so deep and rumbling she swore it made her quiver to her bones, and while it was perfectly civilized and cultured, even possessing a certain sense of relief, there was enough of an underlying growl beneath it to show just what a fierce and deadly warrior he would be to face on the field of battle. It also held a heavy northern accent, denoting his origins. "Thank Shang Ti. We were beginning to worry, when there was no message forthcoming from the Valley. But it's good to know the Jade Palace recognizes the severity of this threat, and sent you."

He paused, and before she could try to parse just what his tone meant—had it been sardonic, or genuinely appreciative?—he went on with narrowed eyes. "I confess I was expecting more. Are you their best warriors?" There was nothing outwardly offensive in his manner, he sounded more dubious than anything else, but she noticed that while he didn't seem dismissive of her and Mei for their gender, as so many other high-ranking men had been in their past, he did give Crane a skeptical raise of an eyebrow.

Unsurprisingly, the avian didn't bother to correct his impression—even if he wasn't so shy and self-effacing, she knew he'd given up trying to change people's impressions of him long ago. _Not to mention the advantage he gets, when they find out they underestimated him!_ But Mei did come to his defense, and more. "Actually _all_ the Jade Palace warriors are the best when it comes to kung fu," she inserted coolly. "But yes, Crane is very much an exceptional fighter. As for me and my sister, we're both graduates of the Li Dai Academy as well, and I am also master of the thousand scrolls."

The general blinked several times, and then his craggy face lit up with a beaming grin that made him look years younger, and certainly less belligerent and suspicious. "Hah. His Majesty always told me to expect nothing but the best from Oogway and Shifu's students, and that all the legendary tales of them were strict fact. It's good to know he was right." He chuckled deeply.

"And don't worry, my dear, I never for a moment considered dismissing you for being a woman. Once, in my youth, I might have made that grave mistake, but not after all I've seen in battle since. And not since my own wife set me straight." Coughing discreetly—was he _blushing?_ —he stood up taller, resuming the proper posture for his rank, and added, "In any event, it's good to have you here at Bezeklik. I'm General Jiao Shen."

_I knew it! And now we know where Shang got it all from…_ Even as she crowed inwardly in delight, Jia spoke up with a bright and cheery air. "Wow, it really _is_ a small empire! We just met your son about three months ago, in Haojing—well, Macau now."

Shen raised both eyebrows this time. "Oh really? I'd heard Shang was posted there. Is he…?"

Mei cut in before Jia could begin waxing eloquent on the younger Amur's many fine attributes. "He's just fine, sir. He was a great help to us, when we had to save the city from the forces of the pirate Long Shi. Incredible fighter, one of the best I've ever met."

"Highly intelligent," Crane put in, nodding in approval. "His plans and strategies were simply outstanding."

"Biggest heart I've ever seen in a man, too," the mountain cat went on, warmly. "He really, deeply cared for the people, and for the soldiers under his command."

"Of course he did," Shen declaimed proudly, thrusting out his barrel chest. "I raised my boy right. What's the point of defending the empire if you don't care one whit for its citizens? That's how you earn true immortality—when people remember you forever, not for your battles or how much land you take, but for protecting them, providing a future for them and all their children yet to follow. You do _everything_ you have to do to ensure that! And you don't treat your soldiers like tools—even the best man, well taken care of and kept in top fighting condition, will turn on you if he thinks you just see him as a prized weapon to be wielded with no regard for his fate."

"Absolutely," Jia agreed, then added casually, "He's also got one of the best bods I've ever seen."

"Yes, of course, he—" The Amur broke off as he realized what she'd actually said, and now she knew his cheeks were as flaming as the peaks surrounding them. "Oh, Ti'en preserve us! You're not _another_ of his conquests, are you?!" From the sound of his voice, she was certain he wished he could praise Shang's prowess in the bedroom...but of course he had to preserve dignity and honor, knew better when it might well threaten his son's effectiveness as a leader and warrior. Hence the aspersion and consternation.

Just as she had aboard Long Shi's flagship, she started to laugh. "No, although it wasn't for lack of trying. Your son's quite a catch, but I'm afraid someone else already caught him."

"Did they now?" The disgruntled look faded, replaced by one of approval and satisfaction. "Well, it's about time, I should say. He's been unattached and eligible for far too long now, not to mention how...indiscreet he's been across the empire." Now he winced. "It's not exactly a stain on the family honor—the Emperor is hardly one to judge, and he doesn't allow nobles at court who think in any such manner—but it _has_ been a bit embarrassing. Still, it's good to know he's finally found the right girl—"

Out of the corner of her eye she could see her sister shooting her a blatant warning look, but she couldn't help herself. And while Shang might not appreciate her passing on the news before he was ready, she also rather suspected he might never tell his father, out of fear of the reaction. Besides, hearing it from her first might soften the blow, and give him time to get used to the idea before they ever met up again. "Actually, it's a guy. Two of them, in fact."

For a moment she thought she'd screwed up royally, as Shen had gone very still and silent. But after staring at her soberly, the big tiger shook his head in bemusement and chuckled. "I see. Then my sentiment remains the same. At least this way, if he's settling down, there won't be any more little ones to worry about. I commend him for looking after them, of course, but even our family's treasure house has limits."

At Jia's surprised look, he smirked. "Come now, do you really think I had no idea of my boy's tastes? Personally, I think we wrongfully discourage bonds between men, and things such as this can only make us stronger and wiser. Besides, he has six other brothers and they've already given me grandchildren. I can only wish Shang well." Shen harrumphed. "I _do_ hope they are at least military men!"

"They are," Mei said, sounding very relieved that Jia hadn't just set off a diplomatic incident. "Colonel Ji Tao and his second-in-command."

If it hadn't been out-of-character for one so masculine and proper, Jia would have thought Shen was preening. "Well now. He _has_ gone up in the world, hasn't he? Two of the Emperor's own bodyguards...very good, highly appropriate for his station. I've met Tao before, he is quite the warrior. Excellent. And of course it _would_ take two to satisfy—"

"Do you _mind_?" another voice from the back of the cavern, deep and extremely pugnacious, suddenly interrupted them. "In case you'd forgotten, we're here to deal with that invading bastard, not family pedigrees and bedroom gossip!"

"The red carpet has teeth," Achal murmured under his breath.

As she turned to watch the figure emerging from the shadows, Jia had to keep from stepping back instinctively. Utterly massive, with broad shoulders and a bulky torso that seemed to fill the room and made her wonder if he could even fit through the cavern doorways, the slate-blue ox was frowning furiously at all of them, but Shen most of all—something she privately thought showed either extreme bravery and self-confidence or brashness and utter foolishness.

Still, the warrior made an impressive sight, considering he wore only a brown armored kilt with matching bracers, legwraps, and a thin chain bandolier that crisscrossed over his fairly gigantic pectorals and equally muscular gut, and his rack of horns was more dangerous and threatening than even Zhuang's had been—the muscles of his neck must be powerful indeed, to support their great weight and breadth. The way he cast his narrowed red eyes at all of them, but especially her, was disconcerting...but then he had reason to remember her, just as she knew him. She wondered how long it would be before he made the connection…

To his credit, Shen only rolled his eyes rather theatrically, but was otherwise far too professional to retort in kind. Instead he only replied, somewhat icily, "There is no possible way I could forget, Master Ox, considering it was you who wrote the summons that commandeered me and my men to Xinjiang. Forgive me if this young woman provided, if only for a few moments, something pleasant and enjoyable to distract from the danger we all face."

She rather thought the horned warrior was about to explode in a rage, but even as his chest was swelling in preparation, a heavy callused hand rested—gently, but quite firmly—on his shoulder. "Peace, Niu Qiu. I know that your will is strong and your heart is true, but do not let your passion rule your head, my friend. We are all allies here, joined in common cause to defend our people, our emperor, and our way of life. Center yourself, be mindful, and remember what I taught you. What Master Oogway taught to me."

Despite the fact this man towered head, shoulders, and even part of his chest above Storming Ox, Jia instantly felt at ease in his presence—he simply seemed to radiate warmth, compassion, and reasonability, and while she knew he was an even more incredible combatant than his student, his kind voice simply made her smile. He was smiling, too, equal parts wry and friendly, cutting a powerful figure in his rich robes of white and gold, the gray hanfu he wore over it left open and unbound bearing enormous shoulders that flared up to points, so that he, too, had a much wider silhouette than he otherwise would.

She didn't see his signature hammer anywhere (though she would bet it was still quite close by), but his intentions at the moment were thankfully (and characteristically) peaceful...and if it came down to it, the colossal horn jutting up and curving backward from his nose would be more than enough deterrent should violence ensue.

Hearing his given name, and the wise but pointed words of his master, seemed to mollify Ox, as he quickly retreated a pace and bowed to Thundering Rhino. As he lifted his head, however, he still crossed his arms over his chest and peered from Shen to the new arrivals with an unhappy grunt. "I apologize, Master. This whole thing just has me on edge, you know? Nobody likes war, unless they're nuts, but we've come to expect it over the years. This though...there wasn't any warning, he came out of nowhere, nobody knows anything about him, and then there's this weapon of his, and his ultimatum…"

"I know, my friend. None of us are sanguine about this," the rhino said soothingly. "But we must keep our heads if we are to win, and in any manner that will spare our people rather than costing us as dearly as it would this Shou Feng."

" _Thank_ you, Xiaozhi," Shen interjected, a bit imperiously but with genuine gratitude. "We all have skills and talents that will be needed no matter what the outcome is, so perhaps it would behoove us to learn what our new allies can bring to the table, so we can devise a proper plan."

"Yes," a third voice suddenly spoke up, with a much thicker accent she recognized as hailing from farther south—Anhui?—and a peasant one at that. "I agree, but before we can do that, there is one other thing we must know."

Jia turned to look, unsurprised. From the other side of the cavern, a shorter but no less burly figure appeared from the darkness, a darkly-hued, green-skinned reptile wearing similar armor to Storming Ox, but without any covering on his torso and the addition of a massive iron morning star on the tip of his spiked tail. Although he wasn't nearly as threatening as his bovine companion, neither was he as accommodating and good-natured as Thundering Rhino—his baleful yellow-green eyes and snout full of gleaming fangs were certainly unsettling enough. The look he shot her was even more contemplative, and more suspicious, than his fellow master's...she was sure he remembered her.

Master Croc lifted a hand to gesture at the three of them, but also including Achal in the group. "Why is Tai Lung not with you?"

As if this had been a signal (although she privately thought he might have been so focused on being distrustful of any stranger that he might not have noticed until this moment), Ox lurched forward a few steps, eyes once more blazing with heat as he clenched a fist. "That's right! We _told_ him, in no uncertain terms, that Shou Feng wanted him and no other, and he needed to be here to put an end to this and protect the empire. So help me, if that 'kitty' dares to think his pelt is more valuable on his back than it is to this warlord, or if he's gone coward on us…"

All of them bristled at this—she heard a very soft growl from the lion's direction, Mei was fairly quivering with fury, while even Crane was giving that slitted gaze from beneath the rim of his _dou li_ that always meant someone had crossed a line they would greatly regret—but it was Jia who strode forward and cut the master off with a snarl and a slammed fist on the table top.

" _Hey!_ Knock it off! The reason he's not here is because _I_ told him to stay in the Valley. He was all set to throw himself to the wolves, literally, because he's still that torn up over everything he did, but I thought it made a lot more sense to keep around the guy who's made something of his life, become an honest-to-gods hero, than send him to his death just to pacify the one who's actually the danger here!"

The snow leopardess paused, took a deep breath, and then glared unwaveringly up into Ox's broad-snouted, rather ugly visage. "And I don't know about you, but I happen to think that hiding in a cave while you send another man to do your job for you is the _real_ cowardice."

That mass of blue-gray fur once again seemed to swell in size as he snorted and spluttered incoherently for a few moments. " _What?_ " he finally bellowed. "You dare to suggest—"

"Actually," the tiger general drawled, "I do believe she has the right of it. I _told_ you giving in to his demands was a bad idea. I may have done a lot of things in my time, in the name of peace and security, but there are some things no amount of justifications can excuse. Do you _want_ to encourage more warlords to invade, put pressure on the throne to wring extortions out of us? Or perhaps you don't care, so long as you always have someone to fight, to measure your skills against, and someone else to take the fall for you."

If Shen were not easily as massive, and possessed of his own mastery of combat, she was sure Ox would have attacked him then and there. Although Rhino's hand on his shoulder—this time gripping him tightly enough that the bull actually winced and his knees began to buckle—was surely also a factor there. " _Stop_. He is only trying to bait you. And even if his words were ill-chosen, he makes very astute points." After shooting a hard, reprimanding look at the striped feline, he turned back to them and sighed heavily.

"You read my letter, friends, so you know that I did not wish such a course of action myself. I have always believed in Tai Lung, even after all these years of his imprisonment, and it warms my heart to know he has finally chosen the right path. And believe me, I know precisely how it feels to have a father's impossible expectations to live up to...or at least, to think you did." Before Jia could do more than perk her ears curiously at this oblique reference, Xiaozhi went on. "However, I do not see what other options we have to neutralize this warlord. Though I will of course listen closely to what you all have to say."

"I can't believe we're actually discussing this." Niu Qiu's voice was sullen and disgusted now rather than enraged, but no less hostile for it. "You guys in the Valley are a real piece of work, you know that? After everything he did, you'll still bend over backwards for him because, what? He was your favored hero once? That little rodent can't stop looking at him and seeing an adorable fluffball of a cub?" He smirked mockingly.

"We were there, we saw every last atrocity he pulled...or the aftermath of it anyway. If we hadn't been in the north, fighting the Manchurians, you can sure as hell count on us having done whatever it took to stop him. I'm not saying Shou Feng has the right of it, especially if he thinks he can take it out on the rest of the empire. But Tai Lung's had this coming for a long time, and if giving him up would give us a chance to take this invader out, I'd do it in a heartbeat. Even if everything you said about him was true, he's just one man. Not worth the price."

Jia felt stricken, for although much of what Ox said was either utterly baseless, taken out of context, or exaggerations and assumptions, he actually did have a few points too. But as she opened her mouth and worked her dry throat to reply, Rhino intervened again. "What you are conveniently forgetting, my student, is that we were _also_ there for a number of the great heroic deeds he performed, many of them when he was not even yet eighteen. As much as you wish to dismiss him—" And his eyes tracked to Croc, including him in his lecture. "—there is far more to Tai Lung than a simple maddened villain, and you cannot ignore this if you intend to fairly understand the full tapestry."

Without moving, Crane suddenly spoke up, his tone as dark as his visage. It always sent a chill down Jia's spine when he did that. "Not to mention the things he's done _after_ his escape and defeat. He helped all of us put an end to that _chi_ wizard. I should think that would count for a very great deal, wouldn't you? How many _chi_ wizards have _you_ beaten lately?"

Jia heard a suppressed laugh come out as a snort from the mountainous tiger, and an echoing chuckle from their leonine companion.

Xiaozhi nodded gravely. "Credit where it is due—and I doubt that shall be the last noble thing he does in his life."

The reptile spoke up again, regarding his superior with a skeptically-raised brow. "You really believe all that mystical nonsense? That letter we got along with Tai Lung's pardon?"

"And you do not?" Rhino rejoined coolly. "Is it the word of our Emperor you doubt? Or Shifu's, who not only fought this wicked monster but received corroboration from the spirit world—from Master Oogway himself? I trust I need not remind you of the wisdom and abilities he possessed, or the lessons he taught you...taught us all." As Croc had the grace to look away, abashed, the master continued, his voice and eyes pained, his tone deliberate.

"Besides...I went over the records at Chorh-Gom. I read of what Vachir did to Tai Lung. And I know for a fact my nephew would never have done such things, if there were not a corrupt force of evil compelling it of him." Jia wasn't so sure—not because she'd ever met the warden herself, but simply based on what Heian Chao had told her and her sisters of how his _chi_ manipulation worked. But she wasn't about to correct the man when he was defending Tai Lung so eloquently—and successfully, to judge by his companions' expressions.

Hanging his head with a mournful cast, the leader of the council murmured his next words. "There were many times, over the last two decades, that I wished life had taken a different turn—that His Majesty had chosen me to command the Anvil of Heaven, and appointed Vachir to the council in Gongmen. I know why he did not...his close friendship with my nephew, Vachir's knowledge of tactics and strategy seeming better suited to a military post while my diplomatic skills would serve me better in a political one, the simple fact Vachir had proven himself against the Mongols and the Huns time and again. But I know if I had been the one sent to Tavan Bogd, I would have been proof against this Chao...and just as importantly, I could have reached Tai Lung, helped him redeem himself sooner. While if Vachir were here now, in my place, he would not have his vendetta to make him throw his support behind your plan...he would in fact agree with Shen, I am certain, that offering invaders what they wish in hopes they will leave us in peace is utter lunacy.

"But we cannot change the past, and he is not here, nor is the army my family made great...which this _chi_ wizard brought to ruin." For a moment he seemed to lose control of his mild manner, his horny fists clenching at his sides, but then he visibly forced himself to relax. "I am here instead, and so I tell you this: while Tai Lung's past also cannot be changed, it is the future that concerns us and what we do now. And a man's mistakes and failings do not expunge the good he has done in his life. I would think both of you, in particular, would remember that."

At these words, Mei let out a soft gasp, then lifted her chin rather loftily. "By the Jade Emperor, he's right. That does rather make you hypocrites, doesn't it?"

Jia picked up on the thread, her words rushing out of her as she remembered these masters' histories...ones she had always admired before, seen as a sign of hope for her own possible escape from a life of darkness and wrongdoing, but which now only filled her with disbelief and scorn. "Yeah! Before you were Thundering Rhino's star pupil—just like Tai Tai was to Shifu—" Ox let out a grunt as if he'd been punched in the gut, but didn't deny her words. "—weren't you just a streetfighter? Using your skills just to make money and show off?" She sneered elegantly.

"And you weren't much better, were you, Master Croc?" the waterfowl cut in flatly. "Only wanting fame and fortune...and Master Oogway told me...wasn't there something about you having a collection of fancy capes…?"

Now it was the reptile's turn to look embarrassed. "Some of those stories are...exaggerated." _No kidding. We heard most of them from Po, and he can't help spicing the legends up, especially for the kids._

Xiaozhi rumbled, "This is true. But one which you know was not, Tengfei, is how you once led the Crocodile Bandits. How you fought me, and when you lost and expected death, I took mercy on you. Because I saw something in you which you did not, the same thing which Oogway saw in me. The urge to use your kung fu for good, to right wrongs and protect the weak. And the chance to change your ways, make something better of yourself, if only someone believed in you."

"Oogway did the same for Monkey," Crane added promptly.

"This is all Tai Lung needed to redeem himself," Rhino concluded earnestly. "Although I could not be the one to offer it to him, I am glad someone else did it in my place, as I did for you. That being the case, I am also glad this very intelligent woman saw what you could not, and convinced him to stay in the Valley. It would be a shame to lose him, and all the promise he holds for the empire, simply because some will not extend the same honor they were given...cannot let go of their hatred. While it will take time for him to work off his karmic debt, that is between him and the gods, not the province of men. He is already earning good karma for his deeds in the Valley, and it would be wise not to take any action to abrogate this."

"Hear, hear!" Achal cried suddenly, breaking the disapproving silence he had mostly maintained until that moment.

"That's right!" Jia chimed in right after. "I mean really, what's _wrong_ with you? You accepted Croc just fine, and even I used to be bad, so why shouldn't Tai Tai get the same chance? We've all changed." She elevated her nose.

For a moment everyone stared at her, flabbergasted, and just as she realized her mistake, Ox shook his horned head and sighed. "Idiot. I _knew_ I recognized ya from somewhere. But I guess you're right. You're here, aren't you? Willing to help us. And nobody from the Jade Palace would be standing by your side if you hadn't really proven you could be trusted." He glanced at Crane and Mei apologetically. "Fine. I'm sorry. This ain't easy for me, but if you guys say he's trying to atone, it really would be an injustice to turn him over to Shou now." He looked as if something had crawled into his mouth and died there, but he still said the words, however begrudging.

As Croc was nodding and offering his own contrite response, Crane was staring from her to Ox, however. "Wait a minute. You guys know each other? You mean, what Po told us was _true_?"

Now it was Jia's turn to be evasive; while hardly the most deplorable thing she'd ever done as a Wu Sister, it wasn't her finest moment, either. "Not quite. He's adorable, but he really needs to learn when to cut back, and just let a story stand on its own, you know?" As Mei started to interrupt, she held up a paw.

"Let me make it simple: yes, we were in prison at the time but had broken out—even Xiu and Chun weren't perfect, we got caught sometimes. No, we didn't hole up in a volcano, we weren't _that_ obviously evil, but we did find an abandoned fortress to hide in till the coast was clear. Yes, we did fight the Kung Fu Council, but no, we didn't have a Whirling Tail Disc Attack." _Really, Po? I don't know what I'm going to do with you…_ "As for wanting to join all the bad guys in China together into one unstoppable fighting force...the idea did cross Xiu's mind, but she gave it up because she didn't want to share. Plus, she never did work well with others."

Despite the situation, the avian somehow looked disappointed to hear it hadn't all been the unvarnished truth, but when he glanced to the council for confirmation, they all nodded, shrugged, or otherwise showed their agreement. "It's like Croc said," Ox said with a lopsided smirk. "Don't believe everything you hear. Some parts were true, but the rest? That's just how legends are born."

Thundering Rhino smiled warmly at Jia, and again she felt that contentment and abiding pleasure that made her want to melt. "Speaking of which, I expect you'll be making legends of your own, Wu Jia. Considering you have taken the chance we offered you back then and broken free of your sisters—if almost twenty years later than I would have hoped."

"That's not all she's done," Mei said proudly, and she knew what her sister would say before she said it; apparently the mountain cat was determined everyone they met would know of it, and she had to allow it was quite the testimonial to her having forged a new fate for herself. Not to mention just how skilled she was in battle. "She was the one who took out Xiu."

" _Really_...?" Now Ox's reticence and dismissiveness had completely vanished, leaving only wonder and admiration. His voice lowered to a more friendly, suggestive pitch. "Damn, girl, I definitely take back everything I said, then. This sure is my day for being wrong, huh? Guess I've got to make it up to you." He smiled sheepishly, an expression that made him look much more handsome, and she tried not to be conscious of his bare chest as he lidded his eyes and, seemingly by instinct, struck a pose that showed off his musculature while leaning casually against the wall. _Oh, gods. Not another one. I think I prefer the bad attitude to the flirting!_

Before she could find a way to either shut him down or unobtrusively sidle out of reach, Achal cleared his throat and stepped forward, spreading his paws expansively. "While I am certain we're all glad to be truly united now against this enemy, I believe we have strayed from the main subject. We still need to address just what comes next. These fine masters do have a plan that brought them here in place of Tai Lung, and I am sure they will gladly share it." He paused. "But first, I believe it is imperative that we all know...just what is this weapon the warlord has brought to bear against your people?"

Each of the Kung Fu Council glanced at each other uneasily, and Jia had to share the sentiment; anything which would worry these three must be extremely dangerous, and the fact Ox in particular would actually show his concern (when he was usually a brash, cocky blowhard) had her even more unsettled. Then at last Thundering Rhino spoke.

"We are uncertain," he admitted with clear reluctance. "As yet no one has actually seen it, or at least they have not done so and lived to tell the tale afterward. Our only information comes from Shou himself, and from...the aftermath of his invasion corridor."

Jiao Shen clasped his paws behind his back once more, standing straight and disciplined as he fixed his gaze on the map before him. "As you might expect, he took the route through Gaochang Pass. From what we've been able to guess, he originally intended to besiege Chorh-Gom, but when he learned of Tai Lung's escape and return to the Valley, he changed directions."

"Wait—he was going to do _what?_ " Crane stared in disbelief. "But that's—"

"Bold? Foolhardy? Crazy?" Croc chuckled mirthlessly. "Yeah, that's what we thought too. But after what he's done so far...he might just have had the means to do it, and not just the guts."

"But how could he even reach it?" Mei objected. "The fortress is way up on a ledge, and the approach to it is too narrow for an army, let alone any—"

"He calls it the Juggernaut," Rhino answered her. "We don't know its exact size or specifications, but it seems to be some manner of siege engine, one that would let him scale or even completely overrun such heights. He's claimed it could overcome any barrier, even the Great Wall itself. And if we had not promised to turn Tai Lung over to him, he had sworn to bring it against the Valley of Peace. Through the mountains, over the western cliffs," he added before Mei or anyone else could bring up the Thread of Hope.

All of them stared at Xiaozhi in horror. While they were thus struck silent, Shen resumed speaking, eyes downcast. "As we said, there is evidence to back up his claims. Aside from what happened to Turfan, and that there's no manner in which he could threaten Bezeklik without such a device, we sent scouts through the pass to verify Shou's passage. Luntai is gone...and it was not only situated on a plateau but had walls high enough and thick enough to withstand the Mongols. From what we've learned, he's left almost every town from here to the western border in similar states."

Storming Ox looked more defeated than Jia could ever imagine him being. "The caves have no value, except to the spiritual. And Shou doesn't seem the type to try and defeat his enemies by demoralizing them—he'd just plow on through and crush whatever resistance or barriers happened to be in his way. And we don't think his men would care either. No, he just chose it because he knew it would get our attention, and the Emperor's." Bleakly, he concluded, "And if this Juggernaut really can do what he says, then nothing is truly safe anymore. We _have_ to find a way to bring it down, and put an end to him, too. So I have to repeat: I truly hope you have a good plan to make up for Tai Lung's absence."

Jia bit her lip; the truth was, they didn't. Not really. Not that Tai Lung had formulated any more of a plan when he'd been set on turning himself over to the warlord, but all she'd been focused on (and Mei and Crane, once they were onboard) was making sure the snow leopard was safe. Granted, until they knew exactly what they were up against it would be difficult to plan, but…

While she was thinking feverishly, her sister stepped forward. "Well first of all, he may not be with us physically, but Tai Lung is here in spirit." The Kung Fu Council looked at her, puzzled, and General Jiao even peered past her toward the cave entrance, as if he expected the snow leopard to manifest by astral projection at any moment. _That **would** be a neat trick_. "I mean, he sent a message with us, for us to deliver to Shou."

Ox groaned, running a hand over his muzzle. "I can't believe—you really think a _note_ explaining why he didn't come is gonna make a difference? This isn't like missing a day of school!"

"I don't know for sure that it _is_ an apology," the mountain cat said firmly. "Whatever it says, he's sealed it and told us not to open it until Shou had it in his paws."

"So it could be anything," Croc accused. "A threat, a challenge, who knows. And whoever delivers it gets to have the pleasure of being the one he shoots."

Jia once again slapped her paw on the table. "Stop being so gloomy! Yeah, things look bad, but until we know for sure things are hopeless, let's not lie down and make it easy for him, huh?" Even as the reptile flinched guiltily, she was smiling—and it wasn't completely forced, as the germ of an idea was forming in her mind. "Now, since we don't know what Tai's letter says, or what effect it might have, let's just assume the best, plan for the worst, and see where they meet in the middle. It's entirely possible it won't even have any effect at all. So I was thinking—"

The blue-furred bovine spoke up again, and this time he seemed not only hopeful, but eager. "Hold on. If we have to get someone close to him anyway, to deliver the message—why not you? And then, once you're in position…" He drew a finger across his throat, making an ugly, suggestive sound.

"No." She made her voice quiet, but forceful all the same. "I don't do that anymore. And even if I did, this isn't the time or the place for it. This guy may threaten all of China, but he was still a victim to begin with."

"Thank you," Achal said softly. She felt a glow of pride in her heart, even as another part of her couldn't help but cringe at how often she hadn't listened to her conscience in the past twenty years.

"Not to mention if we just kill him, his army is sure to go wild and destroy everything they can—in retaliation, or just to steal everything that isn't nailed down." The snow leopardess paused, then rubbed the back of her neck. "Plus...I'm not even sure I'm good enough to get in that close. Especially if this guy is as paranoid and clever as he seems to be."

Ox gazed at her for several long moments, then nodded slowly. "You really have changed. I'd like to say that was a test...but if it was, it wasn't for you." He glanced sidelong at Rhino, crestfallen.

But the horned master only smiled at him reassuringly, then looked back to her with a firm nod. "Very well. You were saying, then?"

After a few moments to collect her scattered thoughts, she continued. "Well, I was going to say, we may not know what the note says, but we still have to get it to him. And Tai Lung himself may not be with us, but Shou doesn't have to know that, not until it's too late. So I think our first move should be to send him a message of our own—telling him a peace envoy has come from the Jade Palace, and that it will meet with him tomorrow, but only if he declares a truce." She grinned in spite of the gravity of the situation. _What did Baba always say? 'Sometimes you have to laugh at life, or else you'll be crying'?_ "Let him assume Tai Lung is part of it, to get him to agree, but we won't say he is or isn't, so it's not really a lie."

Crane ruffled his wings. "I'll make sure to sign the letter. If he's been keeping tabs on the Valley of Peace in case Tai Lung ever returned there, he'll know who I am. So that'll make it seem more legitimate."

Shen chuckled. "Very good. I always thought there was little difference between criminal guild leaders and career diplomats. You'll be quite successful if you follow your friend's path, Wu Jia."

"Thank you." She curtsied prettily.

Croc was smiling too. "All right. Then what?"

"Well, that'll give you time—to heal the wounded, take care of the refugees, get everyone ready to hide or move should the caves fall. And time to plan."

Thundering Rhino rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Quite commendable, my dear. But to what end? Surely you do not mean only to talk the man into submission."

"I don't know, I can babble till you're exhausted, if you let me." Smirking, she went on, "Seriously, we _were_ going to try and use reason and logic to appeal to him, for the most part. _But_ ," and here she held up a paw as she saw not only Ox and Croc but even Shen start to object, "I do have some other ideas in case things don't go as well as we'd hope. And to make sure this Juggernaut is taken out of commission, at least."

Jia glanced at her sister and Crane, recalling how they had assaulted Long Shi's vessel...then at the leonine monk who not only was inspiring her to think more of forgiveness and reconciliation than bloodshed and judgment, but who was himself capable of more than just peaceful words of enlightenment. Then she turned back to the general and the Council and began to tell them just what her ideas were.

* * *

It took longer than she would have liked—although the situation here was about as desperate as the one in Haojing had been, the Council was by its nature conservative and cautious. But with her sister and Jien supporting her, and with the tiger general also urging them to action with the endorsement that he believed her plan sound if rather bold (but necessarily so), they eventually came around to her way of thinking.

While Thundering Rhino admitted that, thanks to pinning their hopes on Tai Lung answering the plea for surrender, none of them had been expecting to actually fight, they were all ready to do so now, and each had offered his expertise in order to fit his particular skill set and battle experience into what she had devised. And with Achal quite ready to do his part in trying to make this wolf stand down, everything seemed to be set.

However, they still had to wait for the parley to be sent and answered by Shou—the messenger escorted by several heavily-armed men carrying brightly lit torches, to make certain he was seen and not mistaken for a spy or ambusher. While they waited, Crane and Mei joined the monk in ministering to the refugees of Huozhou; most of them were rabbits and goats, but surprisingly there were a number of horses and bulls among them too. Whether they were too docile and gentle to put up a fight or had simply panicked and run without thinking, they seemed to appreciate the warm food and bedding they were provided as much as the smaller species did, and it was a relief to be able to do something for the people who had been made innocent targets of the wolf's revenge.

That left Jia somewhat at loose ends, but fortunately (or not, depending on your point of view) she had no dearth of stories to tell of their recent journeys, and a captive audience in the Council and General Jiao. While it didn't surprise her in the least that Thundering Rhino would approve of Pires and mention a wish to meet him during his time in Beijing, Ox laughing out loud at the tale of just how they'd brought down Lord Kang was rather unexpected—and fun.

The bovine was also quite interested in what had occurred in Haojing, since he explained that he'd had to repel a group of plundering marauders there himself, some years ago. Croc, on the other paw, seemed more amused by their encounter with Chen and Yan-Yan, while the Amur of course hung on every word regarding Shang's capture and rescue from Long Shi.

When she mentioned in passing that Dalang was in the Valley (helping Po with Tai Lung and Tigress's wedding feast), Shen had been rather pleased...and when she also brought up the panda's heritage (curious as to just how widespread knowledge of the events had been), the tiger growled and revealed he had indeed known Hao—and his actions during the Manchurian War didn't surprise him in the least.

"Serves him right, what His Majesty did to him. From what I heard, the bastard would've taken old men from their frail women, and husbands from their wives right as they were giving birth, to turn them into killers, too, if that was what it took to save China. Or gone warlord himself, if he thought the Son of Heaven was unworthy of the throne." He spat on the ground to register his opinion of those notions. "He never understood what mattered...what my Ming Hua taught me before she would consent to wed, and has never let me forget a day since. Family. Family is everything."

Jia had to smile at that thought, warmed by what a wonderful father Shang and Dalang had, reminded of everything she had seen to prove to her the truth of those words: Po and the goose Ping...Tai Lung and Shifu, once they had reconciled...herself and Mei and Xuan. But all she had to do was let her mind flick even briefly to Qing, or worse Xiu, to let tears fall for a different reason.

By the time the messenger had finally returned with the good news that, however insolently and nastily, the warlord had agreed to their truce so long as he could meet with Tai Lung in the morning "to dispatch him to the fate he deserved", it was quite late and all of them were bone-tired. Even if they weren't, the uncertainty and importance of the following day would mean they'd need their rest anyway, so it didn't take much for Jia to convince the others to go to their beds and let her retire too.

However, when she made her way to the side cavern that had been given to her (painted like all the others with Buddha murals, but in the night's shadows barely discernible upon the rock), she had to stop when she heard other voices of those not yet asleep...familiar ones, coming from the next chamber over.

"Tomorrow's going to be...really something," Crane was saying, low and subdued. "Do you think they'll be ready to do their parts?"

Her half-sister snickered. "If Master Ox isn't, it's his own damn fault."

The avian's voice was amused as well, if more restrained about it. "That's what happens when you're an incurable flirt, I guess. He _really_ shouldn't have suggested you couldn't knock him flat, especially with a _chi_ blast."

Mei Ling sounded if anything even more smug. "In his defense, he _does_ outmass me by at least a hundred pounds, and I wasn't actually sure I could gather enough _chi_ for that. If it'd been just a physical blow, there'd have been no doubt in my mind."

Even as Jia was cursing silently to herself at having somehow missed this exchange (it must have been when she was going over the maps and troop deployments with Rhino and Shen), Crane observed, "True, but I'd call that instant karma for daring to come between me and my girl." There was a tremor of nervousness in his voice as he said this—even after all this time, he was so endearingly shy, and she suspected he always would be. But he said the words all the same, and ended with a kind of awed confidence.

"Aww, he's not that bad, once he got the sense knocked into him when it came to Tai," the other feline said, and for a wonder she actually did sound sympathetic. "I'm glad Jia and Rhino got through to him, because if they hadn't I wasn't sure who was going to bury his horns in the wall first, me, Shen, or Achal! But didn't you hear how much he apologized for not being able to help us out with Chao?" For a few moments her voice became artificially deeper as she imitated the bovine. "'If we weren't down south in Yunnan quelling that rebellion, and then heading out here to intercept this warlord, we'd have faced that birdbrain with you, no matter how much spirit energy he threw at us!'"

She paused, and then Jia could hear the smirk in her voice. "Still...it _was_ pretty satisfying seeing him land flat on his ass with the breath knocked out of him."

Crane laughed more openly...but he sobered quickly. "At least he learned his lesson. And now he and the others know they can count on you to do the same, if things don't go well with Shou. Between that and you learning more of the Leopard Style while we were waiting for the wedding, we don't need Tao _or_ Tai Lung!"

Even as Jia was amusing herself wondering which of the council would want to learn the new style first—once he got over his distrust, she was positive Ox would be dying to master it, but even if he could sit through boring codification lectures, she didn't think he had any more patience (or ability to achieve balance, so necessary for the style) than Tai had in the beginning, and she wasn't sure if Rhino had the passion or the flexibility for it; ironically, she thought only Croc would excel to start with—Mei Ling was replying. And she sounded so humble, but so very pleased, at the pride in the waterfowl's voice.

"Well, I _did_ master all of the thousand scrolls, Jien. Gotta be good for something, right?"

"You're more than good, Mei. You're awesome." Crane chuckled; all of them seemed to be 'channeling their inner Po' more and more these days. "Not to discount their bravery and skill, but you're worth so many of those men out there." Even as she was wondering where he was going with this, the bird returned to his original point.

"But even so...we don't know what will happen tomorrow. I have every faith in Achal, and Jia too. Still...I really don't think Shou is going to listen to us, especially once he finds out we left Tai Lung back in the Valley. And if it comes to a fight, well...we can't hold anything back. We have to stop him. We have to do all in our power to destroy this Juggernaut. But that means we might not all make it through…"

The bird hesitated, beginning to stammer and stumble over his words. At the same time she realized what must be on his mind, Mei did, too, and she chuckled...low, throaty, and extremely naughty. " _Băo băo_...are you _actually_ giving me the 'must not die a virgin' speech? Because if you are, I hate to tell you this, but...I'm not exactly innocent. Haven't been for quite a while now." Her voice had turned gentle and apologetic...and even a bit guarded and uncertain.

To Jia's shock, however, Crane neither spluttered in embarrassment nor denied her assumption. He didn't run away, either. Instead, after a few long moments, he actually chuckled again, and she could practically hear him grinning! "Um...no, that wasn't what I was doing. Because...I'm not either, anymore. So you don't have to worry about me thinking less of you, Mei." Even as the mountain cat was making a startled gasp, he went on. "What I was _actually_ doing was the 'we might die tomorrow, so we'd better consummate our love now' speech. Crucial difference, there."

She didn't know which impressed her more, the avian being more worldly and experienced than either of them had guessed, or him being mature enough to refrain from resenting Mei for him not being her first. _Considering how long he made her wait…?_

On the other paw, his next rather sheepish words sounded more in-character for him. "I do admit, though, that it was only with other avians. I've never been with a mammal before."

The rustle of clothing was quite audible; she wasn't sure if Mei was just moving closer or...something more. "Well I've never been with an avian. So I guess it'll be a first time for both of us after all."

"Well, you heard what General Jiao said, when he started asking us about Shang's love life again." Crane's feathers rustled, too, as he opened his wings wide—to embrace Mei, she was sure. "If we can't have bedroom gossip, what's the point of living? Though I'd amend that to include love, too."

"Indeed." Her sister purred audibly. "We aren't fighting to live like rocks, you know…"

There were no more words exchanged after that, only affections and something much more...but as Jia turned away and lay down on her pallet to give them their privacy—with a huge, sappy grin on her face—she realized that this was what she had been missing, more than even her freedom, her choices, and her ability to follow her heart and do good. It was why she enjoyed coming back to the Valley, why her pursuit of Shang had been a little half-hearted, and why Mei had been so bothered by it...since she knew there was someone else for Jia, someone she needed to fill that void in her life.

And the snow leopardess realized that if she survived this, then nothing was going to keep her from going back to the Valley one more time—and, whatever his feelings or reactions, telling Po _exactly_ how she felt about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after bringing Shang into the story in the previous vignette, I had to give his father a cameo here, complete with the same costume (with a few additions and changes). His personality was inspired in some ways by the other Shang's father in Disney's _Mulan_ , but mostly it's based on Shen's original personality but shifted back to goodness; you may notice a number of his sentiments are in fact the exact opposite of things Luna had him say, just to show how much Ming Hua's survival changed him in my universe. 
> 
> The plot bunny about "what if Thundering Rhino and Vachir had switched places" and the skeleton in the cliff (which actually does exist in the Flaming Mountains) are also from "Book of Changes", though the other masters' given names are my own invention. (Niu Qiu means "autumn ox", an indirect reference to his kung fu title, while Tengfei means "soaring high", a reference to Croc's VA Jean-Claude Van Damme and his signature move). And aside from finally explaining in full where they were during Tai's rampage and escape, and Chao's siege, I had a lot of fun finding a way to reconcile their contradictory backstories from the KFP website and _Secrets of the Masters_ , as well as how the Wu Sisters appeared there to how they are in my universe. Generally speaking you can guess most of the events of _Secrets of the Masters_ happened, but the attitudes and backstories of the masters were only slightly accurate; as for Croc specifically, the best I could conclude was that after his fame ended because newer, younger acts took his place, that was when he turned to a life of crime and formed the Crocodile Bandits.


	4. Chapter 4

The sky was a pale turquoise the next morning, with a beauty that contrasted with the harsh barrenness of the desert and the slowly-building heat of the rising sun, but it was also rather washed-out, devoid of depth and life...which actually fit the mood of those gathered for breakfast. Because even though she knew her sister and Crane had spent a _very_ satisfying night together, and the rest of them had either trained, planned, shared stories to increase camaraderie, or otherwise prepared for the coming encounter, Jia could sense the tension, worry, and fear in all of them.

So many things could go wrong, and she fully expected the warlord to react quite badly to Tai Lung's absence. Even if he could be reasoned with, it would not at all be easy to achieve peace...and his army and its weapon still remained to be dealt with. All of them were great fighters, and she believed Crane in particular, as well as the Kung Fu Council, would be the key to stopping the Juggernaut. But so much was riding on this...even if none of them lost their lives, the repercussions would be enormous if they failed.

So she wasn't at all surprised that Mei only picked at her food, that Ox was uncharacteristically silent and brooding, that Xiaozhi sipped his tea with mechanical movements and no trace of his genial smile, and that even General Jiao had a dark and resentful cast to his features, as if he believed Shou Feng had invaded as a personal affront to him and ensured his army would be the one challenged and humiliated in battle. But however they fretted and argued internally regarding their chosen course or what they would be facing, outwardly they all knew they had a job to do, and she knew from the resolved looks they gave her and each other that they would do it to the best of their abilities.

In short order, then, all of them set out for the designated meeting place—accompanied by a contingent of Imperial guards should matters go awry, while the rest of the army would be held in reserve at the base of the Tian Shan until (and hopefully only unless) they were needed. General Jiao would be staying with them, much to his chagrin, as he wished to take a piece of out of Shou's hide; but he understood the necessity of chain of command and keeping the leadership preserved. Besides, once she'd learned what his weapons specialty was, she'd thought of the perfect role for him should battle begin—and once she'd described it to him, he was absolutely willing to sacrifice his place at the meeting.

Niu Qiu and Tengfei, of course, were already dressed for combat, but Rhino's finery and the traveling clothes worn by Achal and those of the Jade Palace were deceptive since they, too, allowed for launching into action at a moment's notice. The monk had advised the company's plain dress, saying that their representation should come from themselves and not their attire, and Jia had agreed. At least the fact they didn't look _obviously_ ready for war would keep this parley from having the tenor of violence right from the start...she hoped. And give them the element of surprise, if not.

By the time they had scaled the slopes of a lonely mesa which rose above the sand-blasted expanse of the Taklamakan, the sun had risen high enough to raise the temperature to its familiar intensity, practically a heavy blanket of dry, burning air that left a person gasping even as it also instantly evaporated the sweat that laboring in it produced. Luckily all of them were quick to adapt to new environments and were also in fit physical condition...she wouldn't want to have to fight for a prolonged length of time in such a place, but for a short time she could handle it—though she worried about Rhino and especially Croc. _When you're in the middle of combat, though, with your life on the line, that sort of thing kinda goes into the background. You can pass out afterward, if you survive it._

Wu Xuan had told her that, once. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Coming over the lip of the mesa, she felt the hot breeze flowing through her cheek fur like the air from a blacksmith's forge, as if to herald the fiery confrontation and belligerence sure to come—and then, as the glare of the sun off the sand subsided and the dazzle left her eyes, she saw who, and what, awaited them. It was enough to make her bite her lip in worry, though she also had to admit she was rather impressed.

Accompanied by half a dozen of his own men flanking him with fierce devotion and deep suspicion in their dark eyes, he was quite tall for a canine—easily matching Achal in size—and naturally imposing in bulk and power; no warlord could earn the respect or loyalty of so many men without either the appearance or the actuality of physical prowess, no matter how much their coffers held, and he was no exception. But while his shoulders were quite broad, his torso extremely heavy with muscle, and his bare arms rivaled Tai Lung's, it was the rest of him, especially his garb and other accoutrements, which drew her eyes more.

His fur was a rich earthy brown, a dark blot against the backdrop of sky, rock, and sand, but mixed into it were lighter brindle hues...strands and wisps here and there which eventually turned into an outer border gleaming on the tips of each hair, so that it looked as if he wore a light coat or robe flowing across his body, sheathing each limb in a layer of muted goldenrod. His actual clothing, however, consisted of an elegant and expensive-looking sleeveless _biànfú_ dyed black, with embroidery and trim of silver, which only matched the studded leather bracers on his forearms and complemented the pale cream trousers he wore beneath. A belt of intricately knotted red cloth matched the beaded tassels which hung from a choker between the flaps of his high collar. One ear had been pierced by a thick steel hoop; he had grown out the back of his headfur long, and it had been woven into a lengthy queue which draped down over his shoulder, more beads strung onto it at intervals; and his chin bore a devilishly handsome goatee.

Overall, this wolf presented an image of sophistication she had not expected to contrast with his strength and charisma, and when coupled with his relatively young age—she would place him at only a few years older than Tigress—he was certainly far more attractive and eye-catching than she might wish. Of course, what allure he possessed was strongly mitigated by two things: his expression, which was at once one of bored disinterest and condescending arrogance...and his eyes. Eyes that were almost the same shade as Tai Lung's, only lacking their warmth and vitality...instead flat and pale, looking more like molten metal that had slowly begun to turn cold and hard yet still somehow retained at the core the fire that had made them.

The rest of how he dressed and carried himself denoted a warrior's skills, a diplomat's intelligence, and a leader's ability to inspire...but those eyes. It was like seeing orbs of living coal in the sockets of a corpse. He might be insane, or merely driven, but one thing was for certain: he had a willpower, a determination, that would not be easily swayed. _What in the Jade Emperor's name have we gotten ourselves into?_

After all of them stood at the edge of the cliff, staring at him in trepidation, Achal was the one who finally gestured, indicating they should approach. And so, as the Kung Fu Council hung back by a good ten yards (whether to give them privacy or because Rhino knew how easily Ox and Croc could set their enemy off, or be set off themselves, and so was restraining them with a command to stay by his side), the other four representatives of the empire strode across the very empty, very long expanse of flat rock until they came to a halt...silently facing Shou Feng and his equal numbers.

A full minute passed slowly as each of them gazed at the others...assessing their strengths and weaknesses, waiting for someone else to be the first to speak, to act. The wind caught the cloth of Shou's belt, making it flicker and writhe in the air like a gay festival banner...or streams of blood. Jia also felt it flow through her fur, heard it rustle Crane's feathers, and then all was still again, the only sound her heartbeat thrumming in her temples. The wolf's eyes burned with a cool hatred. Finally he stirred.

"So, you have come to me at last, as I have asked," came the warlord's rough growl. "As I knew you would." He spoke in perfectly flawless Mandarin, of course, so that even if they hadn't known his origins in the Valley, they'd have been able to tell he was native Han; but there was enough difference to it, odd intonations and accents, to mark how many long years he had spent in the west, influenced by its languages.

"Of course," Mei Ling said. To anyone else, she would sound only direct and matter-of-fact; to Jia, who knew her so well, the undertone of caustic accusation was clear. "You left us no other choice."

"That is generally why it's called an ultimatum," the wolf said with an infuriating smirk. He nodded toward the Jade Palace standard which Mei had planted between two rocks behind them, its green pennant flapping lazily in the breeze. "I knew you and your leaders would not be able to ignore me. Your presence shows my request was given the serious appraisal it deserves. Your obedience will be remembered. So tell me, then…" Raising a finger, he pointed toward the council members, and the other soldiers who stood with them near the edge of the bluff. "Where is the traitor who should be in your midst?"

Achal stayed silent for several moments; it hardly took great insight to sense the hostility bubbling within Shou Feng, one which had to be handled carefully. With slow deliberateness, he turned to the rest of them with a smile. "Do not be troubled. Kneel as you would in meditation. Please."

Jia could tell both of them, but especially Mei, wanted to protest, but she responded instantly—no more provocation could be afforded, and in any event she always wanted to do as the lion asked, had in fact gotten her sister and Crane to agree to this back at Bezeklik the night before. So following her lead, they adopted the same posture.

When he saw they had all complied, the monk proceeded forward again, his saffron robes billowing around his well-built body as the wind rose once more, stirring his mane and whipping the stray locks about that had escaped from the knot on the back of his head. Somehow, she could still hear his wooden prayer bead clacking in his pocket as his bare feet crossed the stone. He had his paws together in front of him in a gesture of respect and humility, one which often protected those who had taken the Precepts, and so it was always safe to use it—even if all of them, even Achal himself, were convinced that Shou Feng would not feel bound by it, assuming he even honored it at all.

Still, to the snow leopardess's surprise, two of the warlord's men, including a dhole who stood at his right hand as close as it was possible to be, returned the gesture and bowed their heads slightly; she noticed their position meant their master was unaware of their actions, and wondered what to make of that.

"You wish to take a man's life," the lion finally spoke again, for the first time to the invader, as he came to a stop a few feet from the wolf. "I believe we should discuss this, before I tell you where to find what you seek."

"Man?" the warlord answered, sounding incredulous. "That thing hardly deserves such a lofty designation. You, on the other paw, I must admit surprise me. What is _your_ excuse for coming on his side? Aren't your kind always on about dharma? Of course, that would extend to not hurting even a criminal, wouldn't it?" He sneered, voice dripping with disdain.

"I am only a monk," Achal said with deceptive mildness. "I have no power, and I have nothing in the way of authority. I do wish to help you, though, as I wish to help all mankind."

Shou's eyes narrowed. Clearly he hadn't been expecting, nor would he desire, a philosophical match—especially with a cleric. Yet the feline's bearing was dignified and unflappable, and Jia had to smile secretly as she caught a flicker of vague unease in the wolf's eyes. Achal wasn't following the script, instead remaining utterly unconcerned with the danger of the situation, and the simple directness of his catechism, what would normally sound like a mere memorized recitation, came across nonetheless as purely truthful. _Hard to argue with the courage of someone's convictions!_

"I do not require your assistance to execute a monster, thank you," Shou snapped tersely. "Now the day is wearing on, so allow me to cut to the chase, as they say in the vernacular: if you are squeamish at the sight of bloodshed, I suggest you turn around and make haste from this place." One paw moved to his waist, and suddenly it brandished the sword that had been sheathed there. "And if you get in my way or make any attempt to stop me, so help me you will be twitching on my blade." He growled the last word as he raised his weapon to the monk's heart.

"Stay where are you!" the lion suddenly barked to the three warriors behind him, and Jia jumped: Crane and Mei had instantly sprung to their feet again, and without thinking even she'd begun to as well, but they all froze in place at hearing such a tone from their companion. She exchanged goggle-eyed looks with the others; if she'd had any doubts before that this man had been a fierce and even unforgiving brawler in his youth, they were dispelled now. It was such a steely and sudden outburst, in fact, that even the warlord was somewhat taken aback.

Achal had barely even acknowledged that a blade was pressing on his robes—until he looked back to the warlord with a hard, withering look. "As for you, do put that thing away, please, before you hurt yourself. I'm not your enemy." And with that, he brushed the blade aside as if it were a small branch being poked impudently at him by a bully.

Unsurprisingly, Shou Feng's eyes widened at the pure gall and insolence of this. Even as Jia was wondering if they'd made a mistake in choosing the Indian as their speaker, the warlord growled, brought the blade back up, and slashed at the monk's shoulder. Instead of crying out, however, Achal merely gave a brief glance to the cut, as if a few drops of rain after a storm had suddenly shaken loose from leaves in a tree above while he passed by. Looking back at the wolf, the lion continued.

"Your purpose is mischosen, my son."

"Don't call me that; I have no father now, all thanks to that bastard you foolishly persist in defending! And I am not interested in Enlightenment. I doubt such a thing even exists, frankly."

"Well, that's the first sensible thing you have said so far. Good." In spite of herself, Jia grinned, and she noticed Crane had ducked his head to hide a smile as well.

That quip earned the monk another cut, this time on his other arm. Jia heard Mei gasp, and was herself yearning to run forward to his aid...but something held her back, even more than the command to stay still.

"I wish that you wouldn't do that," Achal said with a sigh, again as if the blow had been only the bite of a bothersome insect. Was he really that badass...or had he learned something in his time as a monk to deaden or ignore pain? Because she couldn't see how simply letting go of earthly attachments (which he'd claimed not to have succeeded at yet anyway) could do that...

"You are vexing and troublesome," Shou exclaimed in irritation and disbelief, disturbing her thoughts. "Do you _know_ who I am? What has happened to me, what has been my suffering, what I am capable of?" His golden eyes blazed with the force of his threat, with a furor of hate, with a capacity for violence that made her shudder.

"Actually no," the lion answered mildly, with a placid and inquisitive smile; for a moment she thought he was going to yawn at him! "All I have been told, by my esteemed companions of the Jade Palace—" And he gestured at the rest of them. "—is what you yourself have just told me, that you swore vengeance upon Tai Lung after he killed your father when you were a child. But do tell me more about him, and yourself. That is, is it not, at the heart of all this? It must be addressed if you are to have peace again...and all of China with you."

Shou snarled, white teeth gleaming like alabaster between black lips and dark-furred muzzle. The former Wu Sister stared, startled and with a suddenly aching heart, as she saw tears forming in eyes that now flared up with a pain and anguish she knew all too well. "Peace? You speak of peace? I cannot have that, I _will_ not have it, until that murderer is brought to justice and my father is avenged—as I have dedicated my life to since that day! You preach of forgiveness, absolution, harmony and balance, but you cannot _possibly_ know what it was like to experience what I did. _I was only eight years old!_

"My father was an elder of the Valley, serving directly under Fu Xiao himself. When Tai Lung rampaged throughout the village, he was only doing his duty, that for which the people had chosen him, what he longed to do with all his heart—to protect, the same as the vaunted Five! He made the mistake of standing between the predator and his prey, so as to keep that bastard from harming or killing any more innocents—from gaining the Dragon Scroll that so obsessed him, and the power that would let him cause even more destruction.

"And what was his reward for this? To be killed before my eyes. _To have his throat ripped out like a savage beast_. To be thrown aside like so much carrion, while Tai Lung went on, uncaring and heartless. Left to bleed to death in the road, while I wept over him and could do nothing. I was left an orphan. I had nothing. I was alone. _Where_ was the balance in that?!"

The wolf's entire body was trembling and shuddering by now; Jia didn't know if he were about to collapse in a heap, launch into a furious attack, or simply let out an unearthly howl to try and express his pain. What she did know was that his words reminded her far too closely of her own bitterness and sorrow over Wu Xuan's body...while the scene he'd described reminded her of far too many deaths Xiu had forced her to carry out over the years. It filled her with horror; it made her want to cry; it left her with so many conflicting feelings she could only stand and listen, stunned into wooden immobility.

Dashing his tears away, Shou finally went on, his voice hoarse and cracking. "But I escaped. I survived. I made my way from family to family, place to place...finding those who would take me in, shelter me, teach and feed me, though none of them loved me. Not the way my father did. For year after year I learned to fight, to plan, to build, to inspire men, to find their breaking points and asking prices so as to gain their service...whatever it would take, whatever I would need to one day return and have my revenge.

"Now at last, after all this time, I have done so...and no one, especially not a sanctimonious pacifist who could never understand, will stop me!" His chest heaved with the force of his tirade, stretching the seams of his _biànfú_ , as he stared with wide, challenging eyes.

For quite some time, Achal only stared back at their adversary, and Jia was quite sure she saw his resolve falter briefly...his face go alternately pale and grey, while sympathy and disapproval warred in his gaze. But then his expression smoothed out and he squared his shoulders confidently. "I see. Much is explained. To your story, I can only say that I pity you...and that you have displayed an admirable devotion to filial loyalty, although I do not think Confucius would approve of your methods. Few do, really." The trace of wryness in his voice vanished, leaving only a clinical detachment.

"It also sounds as if you have gained much knowledge, fashioned yourself into quite a warrior and academic. An engineer, too, if what we have heard of your Juggernaut is true. But also a purveyor of mercenaries, a thief and murderer yourself, an extortionist, a traitor to the Han and to the Son of Heaven...there is no telling how many other crimes you may be guilty of. If what we witnessed upon our arrival here is accurate, you seem to be both a trader in slaves and a whoremonger...or at least, you condone your mercenaries in doing so, which is much the same thing. Most of all, you are plainly uninterested in the consequences of your actions to others, so long as you achieve your own ends."

The lion paused deliberately, meaningfully. "Perhaps it is just me, but you seem little different from the 'monster' you seek to destroy. Rather worse, in some ways."

With a loud roar of wordless denial and tears streaming down his cheeks, Shou was suddenly a blur of motion, plunging his sword though the monk's shoulder before anyone could even begin to move to intervene. Jia gasped, heard Crane and Mei do the same—she could clearly see the blade emerging from Achal's back, at least a foot of it glistening with blood. Even Shou's men looked shocked, especially the two who had greeted the monk respectfully; the dhole seemed most troubled of all. All of them, though, looked torn about how to react to this act of gross impiety and cruelty.

Shou pulled his sword out slowly, and indeed the monk winced a few times, grunting once or twice. The snow leopardess was watching the wolf's face closely...and she caught the exact moment when it twisted with a distress strong enough she thought he was about to void the contents of his stomach; his paw began to tremble ever so slightly. Any other man would have cried out in sheer agony, yet Achal still looked totally unconcerned, as if the whole thing were happening to someone else. _What...I don't understand...how…?_

"You're lucky I'm a peaceful man," the lion said with a soft laugh, as if he were sharing a joke with an old friend, and Shou wasn't the only one who shot him an incredulous look. And his even, tranquil tone did not at all fit his next words—though she thought she detected a core of implicit threat deeper within it. "I'd have kicked your fucking ass in my younger years for the first cut." He laughed ruefully, a bit harder and louder, but soon stopped himself as it aggravated his new wound. He sighed. "I had a feeling this would be a bad day."

"Are you mad?" screamed the warlord at last, his whole body trembling once again, this time with rage and lack of control. He came up to the older lion in a rush, grabbing his neck with one strong paw and hoisting him right off the ground as he held his sword over the lion's heart once more.

"To the impartial observer, I would not appear the unbalanced one," Achal commented. Despite the circumstances, Jia had to stifle a giggle.

"Do you realize that I could cut out your heart, show it still beating to you before you die, and not even blink?"

Until that moment, the monk's eyes had become bright and even annoyingly cheerful. They now suddenly took on that calm hardness again that made Jia feel as if her insides had turned to ice; from the look on the wolf's face, he felt the same fear.

"And do _you_ realize...that I could _let_ you cut out my heart and show it to me...without even blinking?"

It was not a threat, a boast, or even a show of foolish bravado. In that moment, Jia fully believed Achal's words, and she knew she wasn't the only one—Crane's breath was rasping in his throat, one of the warlord's men swallowed audibly, and Shou was so stunned that, without even seeming to be aware of it, he had slowly lowered the monk back to the ground again. Jia wondered if he'd even looked, or been, this afraid on the night he watched his father be murdered.

The lion looked slowly over his shoulder, moving against Shou's paw that had of course become much slackened in his shock. "I'm glad you three have stayed where I told you. Just remain patient, and all will become clear." Turning back to the warlord, Achal gently put his paw on the one around his neck and dislodged it. "I'm afraid that I shall have to sit for the rest of our discourse. I'm losing a lot of blood." Again the preternatural calm, the matter-of-fact tone as if he were only discussing the weather. Wordlessly, the monk stepped away a few paces and gingerly sat down, obviously in discomfort but unworried as always.

"Crane, would you please come here and tie a tourniquet around my right arm?" he requested of the stunned avian. "This cut's pretty deep." Almost as an afterthought, he said, "And some bandages for my shoulder would not be uncalled-for."

Nodding, Crane obeyed without hesitation. "Yes, Holy One." He walked cautiously over, his eyes never leaving Shou, and then bent down by the lion who had already slowly shucked his robe off his shoulders, revealing his quite bloodied but still strong torso. Shou's men looked away, and Jia marked the looks of shame and disgust on their faces. Crane brought strips of cloth out from the medical satchel he carried at all times now, beginning to bind the still flowing wounds. As he did so, the snow leopardess sidled nearer, both to be nearby when hostilities inevitably resumed and to speak to the monk.

"What are you doing?" she whispered in a soft hiss when she was close enough. "I thought this was supposed to be a diplomatic envoy. I _thought_ you were going to keep things peaceful, make sure there wasn't any more bloodshed."

Achal shrugged his left shoulder, seeming unperturbed by the accusation in her voice. "A little provocation now, to break through the chinks in his armor and persuade him to open up his heart and his mind, will prevent far worse lashing out later, if I am careful and he is reasonable. If not, then at least we will know precisely when and how he will retaliate, so we will not be caught by surprise and no innocents will be in danger." He paused, then added gravely, sadly, "And every word he speaks about his past, expressing his pain, will be one that leaches it from him...leaves him cleansed, free of the need for vengeance and the guilt that haunts him, so that he will stand down when it has run its course."

The waterfowl nodded, like her keeping his voice low as he continued applying ointments and herbs, then bound the wounds tightly and securely. "Okay, that does make sense now. But even if you're right, that will surely all go out the window the minute he hears Tai Lung isn't with us."

"Yes," the golden feline said softly. "But the longer we can delay that, the better it will be for all of us. The more likely we can share that letter you brought with you. If nothing else, it will keep him from attacking until our forces are ready and in position." Again she was reminded of the lion's knowledge of tactics; apparently his order knew perfectly well how to wage intelligent and decisive combat, and taught its acolytes of this, even if they were only to use it as a last resort.

Just as Crane was finishing his medical duties, Shou seemed to have decided he needed to recapture the role of alpha in the situation. Stepping forward again, the warlord spat out another caustic remark. "So, am I supposed to be impressed by a holy fool? And you have yet to explain whom your tame pets are." Even to Jia, who had made her fair share of lame comebacks while pretending to be vapid and brainless, it sounded petty and pathetic. Whatever his warrior's skills, Shou wasn't winning the battle of debate.

Crane only spared the wolf a brief sour look but otherwise held his tongue; over his shoulder, she could see that Mei, too, had finally understood what Achal was doing; if nothing else, the way the warlord's men kept rubbing at their necks, shuffling their feet, and otherwise acting unhappy with the proceedings was promising. Even though most of the mercenaries only wished to sweep across the land and strip it bare, some of them seemed to have scruples. If they could be pushed to mutiny, or even defect...

"What do you hope to accomplish in all this, Shou, my son?" the monk asked again, abruptly.

"I told you. I want him dead!" The warlord gestured rudely with his sword in the direction of the Kung Fu Council and the rest of their soldiers; from how Ox and Croc immediately bristled, they clearly felt the targets of his threat, and Jia wondered how much longer Rhino could hold them back from precipitating battle. "Now tell me, where _is_ he?!"

"You have been railing against a monster most of your life now, not a person," Achal answered, completely ignoring his rather frenzied demand; Crane meanwhile had adopted his usual meditation pose, like a disciple at the lion's side. The look of awe and respect on his face was unmistakable. Shou, she noticed, wouldn't even look at it. "I think in your heart you know that, Shou. You are set on killing a man, not a monster. The monster you seek, the one whom we all seek to destroy, is inside each of us. Obviously, Lord Buddha identified him as Mara. A very poetic identification, I think, but insightful if one thinks about it."

Shou ignored him, clearly becoming more and more agitated, and Jia tensed; she knew it would happen any moment now, with all that was left undecided being the exact moment, the precise thing that would set him off—and just what his first action would be. "The blood loss is going to your head now, I think. Well? Is he going to fight me, or not? Since I am quite certain that beast would not passively surrender to anyone, not even to save the people he claims to now wish to protect."

His sneer had returned, along with some of his cocky surety. "All he feels is hate and a lust for killing and maiming. This whole parley has been merely a distraction, hasn't it? He is there, waiting, itching to pounce—to plunge a knife into my heart, or to rip me open with his claws the same as he did my father. Isn't he? _Isn't he?!_ "

The wolf had begun to turn in slow circles, aiming his sword at each of them in turn...at the waiting Imperials...at nothing at all. As his final words rose to another scream, and flecks of rabid froth flew in the air, the lion raised his voice to drown him out, enough of a roar in it that it made Shou stumble backwards a pace. " _Enough!_ Dwelling on the past is futile. Every story must have an ending, my son...but yours is not what you believe it is, or think it should be. Let it go. If you value your next life, your honor, everything your father stood for and the Valley holds dear, turn back from this course before it is too late."

"I value nothing!" Shou snarled. "Because I _have_ nothing! Thanks to him!"

"It doesn't have to be that way, though!" Jia finally burst out, desperate, forlorn. "Don't you see? This isn't right, it's not the way!"

"And what would _you_ know of right and wrong?" His words dripped with venom. "You are a snow leopard as well. Just like him. A cold, indifferent, vicious people. Is it any wonder that killer turned out the way he did? He was a demon simply waiting to be unleashed. He should have been killed at birth!" The warlord spat in contempt. "Even his own family didn't want him. They must have agreed with me."

She didn't know which infuriated her more; the insult to her species, or the horrible assumption made regarding the reason for Tai Lung having been a cast-out foundling. Mei Ling, who knew the truth as well as she did, clearly was angry enough to interject at last. "That's a lie! His family _loved_ him! That's _why_ they gave him up. And my father was a snow leopard...the finest and best of men…"

"Yes, I'm certain," Shou drawled. "As you would have me believe Tai Lung to be now, I suppose?"

"He's certainly finer and more civilized now than you are," Crane cut in coldly.

"Woe! I stand bereft." The wolf barked a mirthless laugh, twisting to swing his sword in another wide arc. "Where is he? Come out, come out, wherever you are! I know you're there, you're _enjoying_ this, aren't you...just as you did that night of slaughter and depravity…just as I will enjoy applying the same treatment to _you_..."

It was the unhinged, disjointed way he said it, Jia thought later, that pushed her into it—either that or simply wanting to silence that disturbing voice. "He's not here!" she burst out.

Dead silence.

Very slowly, Shou Feng rotated about on one booted foot to regard her, and she blanched at the indescribable look on his face. "Not...here?"

Even if she hadn't been afraid to take her eyes off of him, Jia was afraid to look and see the others' reactions, especially Achal's. So she only kept her gaze steady, her voice pleading, as she held out one paw. "No. He wanted to come...he wanted to restore peace...he even wanted, I think, to let you do what you wished to him. But that wouldn't have solved anything, it just would have made it all worse!"

"So...he's an idiot, then." The wolf growled. "Or a coward."

"He's not the one threatening innocent women and children to get what he wants," Mei muttered behind her.

"We came instead," Jia went on, hoping he hadn't heard, attempting to keep his attention fixed on her if he had. "We came to make you understand...show you we don't want to fight, _he_ doesn't want to fight. That people can change, and the man you want to punish only wants peace, just like the rest of us."

Shou shook his head violently, lips curling back to expose his clenched fangs. "No. No. There is none of that in him, and never shall be! He refuses to accept his fate, that is all. He is afraid of it, of me, hah! He is running away." But there was something in his eyes—disquiet, hesitation, bewilderment and frustration that were slowly building as his purpose was continually thwarted...or as he realized, whether he would admit it or not, that things were not as he had believed them to be. Not simple, black-and-white.

" _You're_ the one running," Achal said, sorrowful and quiet, as he, too, seemed to understand what was running through Shou's mind. Recognizing the reference to the tale he had told them at Hukou Falls, Jia felt a sharp pang of fear—and awe.

Slowly, making no sudden movements, she reached behind her with her other paw and pulled out the sealed scroll from Tai Lung. "And you don't have to, not any more than he did when he escaped Chorh-Gom." She reached for the cap. "If you'll just let me—"

"How does he sleep at night?" the canine snapped, hackles rising, muscles bunching in fury. "After everything he's done, the wickedness he has perpetrated, the dishonor and shame he carries...how does he sleep at night?"

"With a beautiful woman." It was not a wise response, but she couldn't help herself, it popped out instantly. In spite of everything, she heard Achal snort a laugh behind her, even as Mei was swatting her arm.

Naturally, it only made Shou let out an even uglier growl. "Of course. I _told_ you there was no remorse to be found in him. Well then, you have left _me_ no other choice..." Shaking his head in disgust, he turned toward the northern face of the bluff, where the mesa overlooked the road as it wound from the ruins of Huozhou westward, toward Turfan and around the base of the Tian Shan.

As he raised his sword and brandished it high, he reached down to his waist with the other paw, untying a bundle Jia hadn't noticed there before. Lifting it up before his face, he squeezed it tightly until she heard something crack within—a glass vial? Whatever it was, the bundle was suddenly soaked through by a dark fluid, one that even at this distance she could smell had a pungent, chemical odor...and then he was tossing the bundle high into the desert sun. Up, up it went until it was lost in the glare…

And then it exploded, a ball of multicolored fire, reds and greens and vivid blues that expanded outward over the plateau with a bright flash and a cloud of billowing black smoke. That and the deep, booming crack that filled the air could not possibly be missed by anyone in the area.

The signal clearly had been expected, for after less than a minute, as all of them stood there frozen, afraid to either attack or flee until they knew just what was coming, another sound echoed over the desert and off the cliff walls. The marching of many feet in cadent time, and behind it a deeper, endless rumbling that seemed to go on for miles...the sound of something enormous, heavy, and deadly approaching.

She spied the flags first, numerous pennants on high poles rising above the cliffs of the Flaming Mountains—at this distance she couldn't discern any symbols or crests, only that they were dark gold—as whatever they perched upon lurched and rolled closer, coming along the road from out of sight. Then came what looked like the peak of a roof—properly curved and tiled like that of a temple or palace, but also bearing odd, horn-like crenellations that made her think uncomfortably of the _yaoguai_.

But as it finally began to emerge around the crimson-hued walls of stone, she saw it was far taller, and far more complex, than any siege engine she'd ever seen before. Like a great tower, it rose above the land—her jaw dropped as she realized just how massive it was, once she adjusted to the scale of the peaks next to it—with three more roofs at regular intervals descending along its wooden sides. Like the mountains themselves, it was scarlet in hue, where it wasn't the deep dark brown of stained wood, and each level was supported by pillars and arches, angular and elaborately carved, with platforms, balconies, and narrow window apertures all over each side of the structure.

Borne on gigantic wooden wheels, it was being dragged by all the largest men from the warlord's army—horses, elephants, bulls, even camels—several hundred of them gathered around its flanks on all sides. But many soldiers also rode upon it, peering out of windows, standing upon every available surface, weapons brandished as they roared and bellowed their battle cries into the heat of the day.

As it drew closer, she could see still more details...panels and orbs bearing hanzi characters for warfare and victory, a great many carvings and wooden statues of leering, snarling, howling wolves...but worst of all, on every turret and railing, she could see gigantic ballistae, already cranked and ready to fire their colossal arrows—more like spears—smoking cauldrons that could only contain boiling oil or some other flammable substance, trebuchets and battering rams… And unless she was completely mistaken, she even thought a number of the mercenaries aboard it were carrying fire lances.

How long she (and the others) stood there staring at the Juggernaut, Jia didn't know, but she was jolted out of her paralysis when Shou suddenly roared into the blazing air words she couldn't understand—she thought he was crying out in Mongolian first, then Kazakh—and then the men behind him were joined by a vast swell of mercenaries, rising from the ledges over the western rim of the mesa. Luckily, the defenders had been ready for this, and only a few heartbeats later, Crane was leaping skyward, wings flashing and gleaming in the sun as he whirled about in agile corkscrews (too rapid and erratic for any archer to get a clean shot in, but easily picked out by General Jiao where he was watching the sky with his spyglass).

This was in turn followed by Achal letting out a deafening roar...and then as he and Mei Ling took up combative stances and moved to intercept the warlord and his honor guard, the rest of the Han army poured over the eastern rim of the mesa in a forward surge...and with a sinking feeling in Jia's heart, the battle they had hoped to avoid was on.

Both armies seemed to have been eager to clash, sadly, whether because of how long they'd been forced to cool their heels by their respective leaders, an enmity born of xenophobia and prejudice, or simply a love of bloodsport and a wish to test their mettle against one another. There was certainly plenty of rallying calls, shouts and battle cries filling the hot desert air, and it was almost immediately joined not only by the thundering of many feet but the meeting of weapon against weapon. The vast majority, of course, were using maces and axes or else typical swords meant for close-quarter combat, but unsurprisingly most of the invaders had sabres of various types that let them harm their attackers long before they came body-to-body, and still other formed ranks of spearmen or rows of archers; arrows were soon flying fast and furious, and even though she knew Crane was well above the line of fire (and heading toward the Juggernaut according to plan), Jia couldn't keep her heart out of her throat.

While all this was going on, however, the battle was already spreading to other fronts—for only about half of each army, possibly less, was able to make it up the ledges to fight on the mesa's surface. The rest were swarming around the elevation's base, taking advantage of the flat terrain to spread out and come at each other from every conceivable angle. From where she stood near the drop-off, she had an eagle's-eye view of the soldiers and mercenaries, and despite the regimented and organized tactics both employed to begin their attack, it didn't take long before it became a free-for-all, with the men mingling such that she could only tell them apart by their armor and species, and even that was soon lost in the clouds of dust and sand kicked up by their struggling forms.

In the distance she could also see the Juggernaut slowly but steadily approaching along the road, a route which for the moment took the siege engine directly between the mesa and the cliffs of Bezeklik; presumably depending on how the fighting went, the men pulling it would angle in one direction or the other to attack where they were most needed. At least in one respect she could identify quite readily—by his golden helm, the pale striped fur, and his twin _jian_ s that perfectly matched the one his son had wielded in Haojing—the form of General Jiao as he led the charge across the cracked flats, his men flowing in a surging wedge behind him to crash into those who surrounded the great wooden wheels of the Juggernaut.

Nearby, however, things were far more immediate and hectic. Even as the two armies converged and laid into each other with great ferocity and savagery, they somehow left enough space at this edge of the mesa for the now-battling members of the delegations—less due to any sort of planning or commands, she wagered, and more because they simply didn't want to get too close to such deadly fighters. Even the rest of Shou's honor guard had retreated, she saw, and was battling instead with several of Shen's lieutenants. Mei Ling, meanwhile, had traded her usual _dao_ sabres for the longer, sweeping curve and more rapid movements of the _changdao_ —Ox had mentioned something about such a thing being needed last night, when they had asked what sort of weapons Shou used should it come to armed conflict.

And she could see why now, for the sword the wolf was using—something she hadn't really focused on before, and which was hard to notice when compared to Achal's massive frame—was the even longer and more deadly _zhanmadao_. The length of the blades kept Mei and the warlord a significant distance apart, but considering Shou's instability and warrior's skill, it was probably a good thing they couldn't get too close as yet; instead the two were continually circling the battlefield, blades upraised and eyes fixed on each other with intense accuracy. To the canine's credit, he seemed to be giving her sister the respect she deserved—she doubted he knew who Mei was, but since she had been the one to plant the standard, her association with the Jade Palace must have made him wary.

His mistake, however, was that he was no longer paying attention to Achal...and the lion was just as slowly and deliberately circling behind Shou. His walking stick was held in his bad paw to support himself—not that she thought him handicapped for a moment, or that the length of wood couldn't easily become a weapon itself—while his good limb was raised and ready, paw shaped into a form she'd never seen before, reminiscent of Tiger style kung fu but markedly different.

At the same moment that Mei brought her blade against the wolf's with another ringing slash, Achal struck—first with his fist, aimed straight and true at one of the pressure points in Shou's exposed shoulder; then, as the canine let out a nasty curse and began twisting back to face him, arm dangling and partially numb, the lion brought his stick up to jam its knobby upper end in the tender gap beneath his other arm.

As if to prove how much stamina and endurance he had as a warrior, Shou only let out a low grunt, and although he faltered briefly, he did not drop either of his weapons. Instead he brought his blade to bear behind him, aiming its great length in sweeping arcs meant to keep the monk at bay, while he withdrew a second _zhanmadao_ from its scabbard to train it in front of him, blocking Mei's incoming attacks.

Jia whistled softly; that sort of skill was not easy to acquire, as she herself knew from learning to fight as a perfectly linked team with her sisters, and not even all dual-wielding warriors could master it. Crazed and tunnel-visioned the wolf might be, but he was an incredible fighter. Despite all he had done, she felt a wave of sadness sweep over her, since it was looking more and more likely they would have to kill Shou to put an end to his invasion. _What a waste_.

While he could hold off both opponents at once, though, the lion's style of hand-to-hand combat was obviously one he'd never encountered and was not geared to defend against. And with Mei taking advantage of this to press her attacks, the wolf was forced to only perfunctorily block the bigger feline's incoming blows. His stick continued to be a danger, whether Achal smacked its length across the warlord's exposed back, drove its knob into his side or lower back, or even aimed between his legs—a low blow, literally, but one she couldn't fault if it would put an end to this conflict quickly. _There's fairness, and there's practicality_.

But more and more it was clear that those one-armed martial arts moves were the source of Shou's growing anger and distress. Thanks to the high collar of his _biànfú_ , the wolf's neck was safe from chokeholds and the like, but with how deftly, agilely, and instinctively the monk bypassed his opponent's blade so as to strike unerringly at joints and pressure points, each successive blow was able to hit with every bit of Achal's strength.

And what strength the lion possessed! Even from across the battlefield, Jia could hear his fist connect solidly, and in a very short time the wolf couldn't hide the injuries being dealt him—letting out growls, snarls, even howls of mingled fury and pain, so that only by sheer force of will did he stay upright and able to defend himself, and even then she was certain there would be deep bruises left behind, possibly broken bones if Achal had struck any ribs. He was certainly beginning to stagger, flinch, and half-crouch with more and more frequency.

It was when the lion had turned at an angle, feet planted solidly for support and muscles bulging in shoulders and chest as he prepared for a devastating combo attack, that things changed. From her familiarity with polearms, Jia knew his raised stick was ready to sweep Shou's legs out from under him; if that failed, the curve of his wrist and forearm looked to her very like one of her half-sister's Eagle Claw joint-locks, aimed for the wolf's nearest elbow. But before Achal could strike, the crunch of boots upon stone made her swiftly turn...and curse under her breath. She'd been wrong; not all of the warlord’s followers had gone elsewhere.

The dhole—the one who had stood at Shou's right hand and seemed so disturbed by the abuse his leader was dealing out to a holy man—showed no signs of doubt or uncertainty now. Instead he was racing across the rock toward the lion, brandishing his tribal saber to loyally protect his master...and Jia knew there was no way Achal could hold him off and Shou at the same time, not without sacrificing one of his attacks against the wolf. And that would let the warlord escape, or worse focus all his skill and power upon Mei Ling...

Quickly shoving Tai Lung's scroll case—which she'd been holding woodenly all this time as she stood paralyzed with indecision—back into her satchel, the snow leopardess at last moved to intercept, the roar of the battle around them already fading from her ears as she shifted into combat mode.

She didn't even have to think: against a weapon as fast and light as this saber, not to mention with such a long reach, something as short as a sai was no good, not even in pairs, and while a meteor hammer would certainly keep the man at a distance, it couldn't change directions as swiftly as would be needed to block a sword, even with its flexible rope. And since she had been reluctant to use a Wind and Fire Wheel since leaving her sisters behind… From where they hung at her belt, Jia removed the slender, bone-handled weapons of teakwood and steel which had belonged to Chun, a gift from Wu Qing upon their 'graduation' from Li Dai; the irony was not lost on her.

Spreading open both war fans, one held before her face, the other positioned low at her waist, she leaped between the dhole and Achal, her blades catching the canine's just before it would have struck the lion's unprotected shoulder. In the same motion she turned and twisted to the side, deflecting the saber away and shoving its wielder back so that he was forced to duck and crouch to keep from stumbling and falling. And as he recovered with great skill and swiftness, she brought her fans into position again and gestured with the upper one, in the unmistakable twitch and flick that meant 'bring it!'

Although the dhole showed a flash of anger at her interference (most likely since it had kept him from protecting his master), the look he shot her was nevertheless one of respect and even a certain eagerness; it seemed he liked the idea of testing himself against her. Smirking, she didn't let him have long to indulge in his confidence—twisting on one foot to dodge his incoming slash, only to bring her fan up along his side, cutting a long tear in his tunic.

"Oops...that's gonna need some stitches. Or maybe it needed to be let out?" From the look on his face, he understood Mandarin perfectly, but he definitely seemed more in possession of himself than Shou, since he didn't let it egg him into a foolhardy attack—instead coolly striking toward her thigh and forcing her to block the blade with her other fan.

For several long minutes the two of them battled, Jia always making sure to keep Achal at her back so that he would be free to fight the warlord (and the wolf in turn wouldn't have the opportunity to attack her while she was busy with his subordinate). The dhole was good, quite good, and she soon found herself working up a sweat that didn't come from the heat (although it did leave her panting), but she didn't let it deter her. Whether he struck toward her feet or her sides, a shoulder or her chest, she successfully evaded him each time—leaping nimbly above the blade, turning sideways to present a narrower profile, ducking and diving and weaving away.

And such was her skill with the fans (and the secure grip she held on them) that it was almost child's play to deflect or block every incoming blow, even the ones which required the most unusual contortions. She didn't succeed in making many cuts on him, but she did at least draw him repeatedly out of position: she'd learned long ago the art of misdirection, of not giving her target away with her stance, her angle of attack, or even by a flicker of her eyes and a twitch of her muscles. Each time he was forced to hurriedly bring his saber to interpose itself was one less time he could strike at her or Achal, and each time she made him think she was attacking only for it to prove a feint elicited a frustrated growl or resentful grimace.

So she was rather surprised when, after a particularly vicious stroke that came within an inch of slicing her arm, the dhole remarked, in a low, accented voice, "You must be quite hot under all that thick Himalayan fur. Perhaps you would like a trim? I used to be a barber like my father."

Instantly she quipped back, "You look a bit overheated yourself. I'll tell you what, you can use my fans if you get just a _little_ bit closer…"

He snorted as he aimed another cut, this one at her knee. "What does that make you, then? One of Tai Lung's fangirls?"

It took her a moment to catch his other meaning, since her mind was of course still on the battle, but soon she was laughing gaily. "Hah, _good_ one! Maybe you should go into clowning instead of haircutting?" Before he could retort another reply, she slashed fiercely at his chest, forcing him to backpedal, then answered him firmly, seriously. "And no. I'm just someone who believes in second chances, in letting people prove who they really are at heart."

"Admirable," the canine said, sounding rather grudging...but also with a tinge of understanding. "But I still cannot let you harm Feng."

"I think I'm the one who has to worry about _him_ harming Achal," Jia pointed out—and without warning she lunged again, each of her fans in turn catching against the edge of his saber. As her blades pushed his away again and again, she pivoted to bring one leg up, kicking the heel of her boot toward his abdomen. The dhole leaped backward with a snarl, and she pressed her attack...foot by foot, step by step forcing him to retreat toward the edge of the mesa. As he dodged with a twisting motion so as to instead move along the drop-off toward safer ground, she pursued him...and suddenly, beyond him and below, she could catch glimpses of the amazing combat feats being pulled off down on the flats.

Despite the hordes of mercenaries and Imperial soldiers swarming around and upon the roadway, as well as surrounding the approaching Juggernaut, Jia's eyes were drawn to the four figures who were charging straight through the morass of men—shoving, smashing, and literally hurling them aside in their determination to reach the siege engine and bring it down before it could be unleashed upon the caves...or the warriors fighting on the mesa's heights.

First and foremost was General Jiao, armed with his pair of _jian_ s...even from this distance she could hear him let out a fearsome roar that would strike fear into the heart of even the most aggressive of fighters, and his chest and shoulders swelled until it seemed as if he would burst free of his armor, such was the size of his mountainous musculature—she wasn't surprised in the least to see his enemies, even ones as large as horses, elephants, and other rhinos, fly backwards and sideways under the onslaught of his blades, the air filled by pieces of armor, scattered weapons, and streams of blood alike.

But right behind and beside him came Thundering Rhino and Storming Ox, for as soon as the Juggernaut had appeared over the horizon they had diverged from the army and plunged down the side of the mesa to intercept it. And although she had admired the former's peaceful wisdom and been annoyed by the latter's arrogance and stubbornness, both of them were now proving their skills and strength as kung fu warriors that had earned them their spots on the Council.

As she'd made a rather personal acquaintance with all those years ago, Xiaozhi's Cloud Hammer was even more devastating than Shen's swords—smashing through the ranks of mercenaries as if they were stalks of wheat, sending them flying in every direction and opening up a path for his comrades...and his momentum was such he showed no signs of stopping.

Ox, though, wasn't any less impressive, since he was performing similar feats with his pair of axes, howls and roars of mingled agony and rage filling the burning desert air as his opponents were hurled upward or sideways, there to topple in bleeding, groaning, and often unmoving heaps. Each one fell no matter how cleverly and skillfully he made his approach, for the bovine peered and fixated on each opponent in that trademark preternatural way of his before he struck, finding and taking out their weak points again and again.

And behind the pair of them in turn came Master Croc, who slashed and struck with his own sword even as he counterbalanced himself with his tail, the spiked ball on its tip smashing into his attackers even as his impenetrable hide kept their own blows from doing him any damage whatsoever. All of them had been prepared to face the warlord if need be, but the appearance of his Juggernaut had drawn them to carry out the plan she and Achal had devised the night before

What might have seemed like overkill, though, was absolutely necessary—for not only were there always more mercenaries to replace those who went down, but what Jia had seen before was quite correct: Shou's men were armed not only with fire lances, but various incendiary firearms. Both Shen and Thundering Rhino were kept busy blocking or redirecting these weapons, sending their blazing balls of gunpowder flying off in any direction but at the Chinese defenders (not that some didn't fall among them anyway…).

At least once she saw the tiger literally sever a bamboo lance in half so that it exploded in its wielder's face, and thanks to its length Rhino's hammer acted more like a polearm, smashing into the haft of an invader's weapon so that it sent its ignited fireball into the side of the mesa, the lead shot ripping a surprisingly large hole from the rocky slope. It wasn't long before Croc was whirling himself in endless circles, his tail or his spiked back sending barrages of projectiles back the way they'd come or out into the emptiness of the desert, and the few times he missed Ox was there to twirl his axes in a rather show-offy manner that nevertheless ricocheted the incoming missiles away when it didn't simply smash the mercenaries' weapons to pieces.

Ahead of them, however, the Juggernaut loomed—and the defenders that surrounded its base, the ones leaning out of the siege tower's slitted windows, and those on the steep, angled steps that ran down its front side were armed with _san yan chong_ s as well as _zhen tian lei_ s: "thunder crash bombs." The former sent three times the ammunition hurling down from the heights thanks to their triple barrels, while the latter were devastating in the rather enormous craters they left behind each time they hit the ground.

Thankfully Shen's armor and the hides of Rhino and Croc were keeping away the worst of the iron shrapnel (and they in turn interposed themselves to protect the soldiers and Master Ox), but when combined with the gigantic arrows being fired by the ballistae, the battlefield was deadlier and more desperate than any she had ever encountered this side of the Vault of Heroes.

High above the sand-scoured rock and soil of the Taklamakan, Jia could see Crane circling above the Juggernaut, guard feathers flashing and gleaming in the sun as he dove toward the roofs and balconies of the wooden tower—but the soldiers manning it kept him continually dodging, twirling, twisting, and evading as they hurled more grenades skyward, fired their arrows, or sent fiery blasts into the heavens.

Their plan depended on him getting in close, past the armored fortifications that sheathed the structure, but naturally its defenders weren't allowing that...and as the waterfowl flitted and streaked about to try and draw the fire of the trebuchets, she could also see several of the containers of oil being hoisted into place, ready to be poured on the Han below… _No! Somebody has to stop them…_

It wasn't going to be her, however, and not just because of the distance. The whole time she'd been watching, she had instinctively and skillfully blocked every one of the dhole's attacks, holding him at bay and even pushing him to retreat further along the bluff. But suddenly the canine lunged—only to stumble and fall toward the ground, yet as she brought one fan down to slash at the back of his unprotected neck, it turned out the fall had been a ruse, his knee catching him so that it turned into a somersault...and his booted feet were abruptly coming right up into her chest. With split-second timing she managed to lean away, so the blow was only a glancing one, but Jia still tumbled through the dust before righting herself.

Unsurprisingly, the dhole appeared out of the gritty cloud before it had fully settled, his blade twisting in a convoluted pattern either meant to confuse her or simply avoid her fans so that it could slip in to carve her flesh; she didn't quite recognize the style, but chances were good it was indigenous to the steppes. Her only recourse was to mimic him to some degree, drawing upon every bit of her knowledge of kung fu and even dance in order to evade him.

To any outside observer, she knew both of them would look more like they were made of liquid, wriggling and gyrating and darting like quicksilver as they moved back toward where Mei, Achal, and the warlord were still locked in combat. _He's **really** good. Better than I gave him credit for. No wonder Shou chose him as his second. _She pondered how best to overcome him, even as she responded automatically to each of his relentless attacks.

In the end, although it pained her to do it, she found herself imitating Xiu's style of combat, albeit without the malice and harshness her sister had always employed. Again and again she swept her fans' blades in slashing crescents, keeping the dhole from reaching her even with his longer blade as well as just plain keeping him on the defensive, and her paws darted about with dazzling speed so that the few times he did succeed in slashing at her arms or legs, she always dodged or evaded so that he only struck empty air.

The canine bit his lip and furrowed his brow, where sweat was beading heavily and not just from the desert heat; she didn't know if he was about to launch into a vicious, enraged attack or one fueled by desperation, but either way he was bound to get sloppy. She hated to have to do it, but unless he gave her an opening that would let her leave him alive but harmless…

Finally he seemed to come to a decision, one that made him set his jaw grimly—and then he leaped in a blur of motion, his saber slashing again and again at her upraised forearms, so that she was forced to continually use them to deflect, catching the flat of his blade on her wrist or arm bones. While she was thus out of position, he immediately switched tactics, sweeping the sword at her legs to again try and knock her prone.

This time, however, she let herself topple on her back to the ground...and as he brought the saber sweeping down with a triumphant look, aiming for her chest, she pulled the same dirty trick Xiu had used on Tigress—snapping one fan closed and flipping it so as to strike out with the handle. Instead of going for the throat, though, she jabbed it hard into the dhole's stomach.

The canine's eyes widened, an anguished grunt escaping him along with the wind she'd knocked out of him. Even as he was doubling over, the force of her blow sent him flying backward until he was the one lying in the dirt. Instantly she was on her feet, springing toward him with both fans raised, razor-sharp blades ready to strike. Instinctively he thrust his sword up toward her, whether to try and impale her or simply ward her away, and instead of trying to deflect it, she flung one fan up, spread open, before her face. The blade thrust right through, its tip quivering bare inches from her muzzle—and before the dhole could recover from his shock, she deftly twisted and bent her wrist.

The fan, following the same arc she'd described, brought his sword along with it, jerking it right out of his slack paw...and in a twinkling, the saber had flipped completely up and around so that its hilt landed in her waiting paw. Yanking the fan off of it, she drove its point down toward his terrified, crestfallen face—and stopped.

For what seemed like ages, the two of them stared at each other, and the sounds of the clashing armies as well as their companions still battling behind her faded into the background; all she could hear was her heart beating in her ears. At last her fallen enemy managed to speak, bitterly. "Well? You won, fair and square. Why don't you kill me and be done with it?"

It took her another moment to find her voice. "Because I don't do that." _Not anymore_.

"Really?" As if he'd read her mind, he shot her a skeptical look. "A snow leopardess...armed with war fans...surely you know how famous you are, even on the outskirts of the empire. Why would one of the Wu Clan show mercy?"

She flinched, but forced herself to keep her voice level, unthreatening, although she did hiss her words; she doubted anyone could hear her over the battle, but it always paid to be careful. "I never wanted to be an assassin. I wanted to be different. And now that I'm free of my sisters, I never kill unless there's no other choice." She paused. "Anyway...we meant what we said. Whatever the Council or General Jiao think, we didn't want to fight, only to bring peace. Your master is the one who forced our paws."

His eyes flicked past her, to where the wolf was still locked in mortal combat with the lion and Mei Ling. Then he sighed heavily. "I...I know. This means so much to him...the campaign, his vengeance, his father's spirit...it is everything to him. I knew it was folly. But he would not see reason, and if I wished to remain by his side, to remain alive, I had to bow to his wishes. It was the only way I could see his will done...or at least keep him safe while he made the attempt.

"I know you think otherwise, that he does not seem it...but he is a great man. He has won my loyalty...my friendship...and that of so many of our men, something beyond what his money could buy. You were right. Everything you and your comrades have said is the truth. If you are truly as merciful as you say, and do seek peace, then please...stop him. Stop his madness. But also save him from it, if you can." Tears stood in his eyes, and she was shocked to see what she was certain was true sincerity there.

Jia swallowed hard and looked over her shoulder, instinctively suspicious but also much more uncertain now. Near at hand, she could see the Juggernaut had nearly reached the point where the road began to curve toward Bezeklik; either it would begin besieging the holy caves, pinning down the rest of the army until they could either be starved out or slaughtered, or it would turn toward the mesa to defend Shou—and take out the envoy and its leaders.

As Crane banked away for another spiraling flight, she saw the sun glinting instead from Shen's twin swords; the tiger stood in the middle of the tower steps, over halfway to its summit, locked in a furious combat with another wolf, this one pitch-black in fur and even more massive than the warlord. Such was the force of his blows and the fire of his bloodlust that he was forcing the mercenary back, step by step, even though they were of a size with one another.

As they came abreast of the next platform, the Amur didn't even lose his rhythm: as he brought one blade up to block the wolf's incoming axe, he swung the other to slash through the ropes holding one of the cauldrons of oil in place, then kicked it for good measure. It tipped over with almost slow majesty, its contents pouring down—not at the Han who were surging around the tower's base, but back toward the Juggernaut itself. Screams of agony filled the air as the mercenaries on lower levels and at the windows below were the ones scalded and scorched instead, and even the wooden walls were soon smoldering and igniting. It sickened her...but she knew there was no other choice, if this army was to be stopped.

But so far, all was going according to plan. Which meant that very soon, Shou should be deprived of his weapon and all the pride he'd invested in it. That would leave him vulnerable, demolish his plans...but it would also drive him even further over the edge. There would be no telling what he would do, and the chances of getting through to him would be slimmer than ever. It would take careful managing, and her window for doing so would be so very narrow. Yet even aside from the danger he posed to Achal and Mei, to all of China, to Tai Lung and the Valley and everyone in it...she had to try.

It was more than just another way to continue atoning and doing good. It was making it up to Tai Lung for what Xiu had tried to do to him. It was resolving one last loose end so that he could finally put his past behind him. It would keep Po safe. And it would be fulfilling her oath to her father. She had not been able to do so with Xiu. Now...here, perhaps, there was still a chance that someone could be saved.

"I can't make any promises," Jia said at last, sadly. "But...I'll do my best."

The dhole nodded, slumping back wearily but also looking incredibly relieved, as if a burden had been taken from him...and even as she kept his sword steady just in case this was a very clever and convincing manipulation, she turned to watch the fight that had begun increasingly to dominate the center of the mesa—watch to ensure her sister and Achal would stay safe, but also watch for the moment when she could make her move, if it ever came…

The fight was certainly evenly matched in almost every respect, and not merely because all the combatants were dual-wielders. Mei was still fresh while Achal, even with all his stamina and strength, was suffering from the effects of his injuries and blood loss; on the other paw, Shou was being forced to fight two skilled warriors at once, and while he clearly had the knowledge, passion, and frenzy to urge him onward, even he could go on only so long without a chance to rest or take stock. Jia knew eventually one of them was going to make a mistake, and whoever it was, she prayed it would not be a fatal one.

In seemingly endless revolutions, the wolf spun and twisted across the rocky ground, his boots barely stirring the dust and sand as his blade met Mei's with ringing sounds that shimmered with an odd beauty across the mesa. High, low, horizontal, vertical, they struck again and again, and such was Mei's skill that on more than one occasion the warlord was forced to block her blows with an upraised bracer rather than his sword. For a brief moment or two she thought she caught a gleam of respect and pleasure in Shou's eyes at having such a talented opponent; she knew it was in the mountain cat's.

Heedless of the sweat of their exertions (which mostly evaporated in the desert heat almost as soon as it appeared), and the blood which trickled from the few wounds they'd scored on each other's limbs, they drove each other back and forth, giving ground only to surge forward and reclaim it, then seize even more. She had to grin despite the dire nature of this conflict when she spied Mei adroitly twisting and bending her sword arm so that she could slip past the warlord's defenses, then wrap around his own arm at the elbow—a weaponized form of the Lian Quan she'd never seen before. Even more stunning, however, was how she barely was able to latch on and send Shou stumbling forward before he, too, was twisting, his limb seeming more like noodle dough as he pulled free of her sister with the slipperiness of an eel. Her jaw dropped; so did Mei's.

Still...as furious, fiery, and determined as the warlord was, he was tiring. And having to continue blocking Achal's stick or the blows of his fist and forearm with the other _zhanmadao_ was taking its toll. The lion succeeded in striking the knob of his stick right between Shou's shoulder blades, the _thump_ audible even over the sounds of battle, and he stumbled; the monk followed up by tucking one leg close, then striking out in a scissors-kick that would have spilled the wolf on his backside except he dodged to the side and down at the last second. While Achal was exposed, bent over from his missed attack, Shou stabbed upward from the ground where he knelt, his blade deflected into the feline's robe by a twitch of his walking stick; Mei came up behind the wolf with an overhand blow, only for the canine to pivot on his left-hand sword and send her sprawling with a flawless roundhouse.

But even as Jia started to move forward, torn between intervening to protect her sister and leaving the dhole unguarded, she realized she needn't have worried. For even as she was falling, the mistress of the thousand scrolls was turning it into a dive, then a somersault that brought her back to her feet in seconds—and then she pulled a clever trick by angling her _changdao_ into the sun, reflecting its light right into Shou's eyes.

He snarled and let out a rather impressive stream of curses, turning his face away, but before he could clear the dazzle, she had leaped forward, coming up under his guard to slap her blade with stunning force against his wrist. His paw went numb, and the _zhanmadao_ fell to the ground where she quickly kicked it, sending it sliding out of reach.

"Good girl!" Achal congratulated her with a rather thunderous bellow, and instantly he leaped in to take advantage, shoving the wolf's other sword up at an angle with his stick so that he could press body-to-body, his free arm grappling with Shou's as he struggled to twist and lock it behind him.

It was a move that seemed to surprise the wolf, but he looked even more shocked to find just how strong Achal was, even in his injured state. Instinctively Shou tried to break free by main force, but the mammoth muscles the lion possessed kept him pinned in place—that is, until the monk abruptly bent downward at the waist. Jia thought he was simply dodging the warlord's blade, but in moments she saw his paw latching onto the canine's trouser-clad calf, jerking upward. Shou was caught completely off-guard, letting out a cry of mingled terror and fury as his foot was wrenched off the ground, his entire body sent flipping up and toppling back as he was thrown over Achal's hip to land with incredible force face-up in the dirt.

Suddenly the snow leopardess remembered where she had seen fighting like this before—at a temple in Nepal, one of the few times Xiu had chosen to leave the borders of the empire (to gather rare poisons and other black market goods for their trade, she said, and to learn fighting techniques that went beyond kung fu, but Jia knew it had mostly been to avoid the authorities when matters were a little too hot for the sisters, the prices on their heads a little too high). _What was it called? The holy men there were so peaceful, but they weren't pacifists, they'd defend themselves and even go on the offensive if the cause was right..._ malla! Malla-yuddha!

Indeed, even as Shou was struggling back to his feet, the golden cat was diving for him again with all the ferocity of a street-fighting wrestler, though she noticed he still seemed to be aiming for non-lethal blows, ways to disable and disarm the wolf without killing him. Even as his stick kept that curved blade knocked aside, his other arm was wrapping around the warlord's middle and his maned head was butting into his torso as he attempted to shove him backward. Shou snarled, braced himself, and wrenched out of his grasp—only for Achal to twist around behind him. One knee came up to drive into the small of the wolf's back, while his arm soon encircled Shou, pressing into his throat.

The wolf immediately bent forward, clearly trying to jerk the lion off his feet and hurl him over his shoulder...but Achal bent the other way, throwing all his weight backward until the wolf was lifted off his feet instead, and then both of them were toppling over. The sacrificial throw didn't harm the monk one bit, though, as he knew how to land, with Shou the only one grunting in pain as he was inverted and slammed hard on his belly, muzzle nearly buried in the top of Achal's dust-coated mane.

The sound as Shou hit the ground was oddly echoed by another smashing blow behind them, and Jia hurriedly twisted to look. As she had feared, the Juggernaut had almost reached the side of the mesa, despite the best efforts of Crane, the Council, and Shen, and what she'd heard had been the tower's trebuchets launching enormous boulders—which landed amid horrible cries from the Chinese soldiers still swarming on the heights against the mercenaries there. Giant arrows from the ballistae followed, sweeping men over the sides when they didn't simply skewer them.

Dimly she could also hear the sound of battering rams hitting the slopes below, and for a moment she stared, poleaxed, until the truth swept over her with a chill: instead of taking out the walls of the garrison, or Bezeklik's mural-strewn structures, the invaders seemed intent on bringing down the mesa itself. And if they struck the right places, with enough force, while the battling armies were still atop it…

They had to end this, fast. Luckily the tiger general seemed of the same opinion, since even as she watched, he skewered the ebony wolf that had been blocking his path, hoisting the still-writhing, snarling body up off the steps until he sent it flying off his blade, flailing hundreds of feet down through the scorching air. Suddenly the way was clear for him—another of the grenades came flying toward him, but before its fuse had burned down, Shen deftly caught it with the point of his other _jian_ and sent it almost gently back into the darkened interior of the Juggernaut.

There was a pause—and then a violent explosion, followed by another and another as gunpowder stores, cannons, and other firearms were ignited by the blast, too, sending tongues of fire and clouds of smoke shooting out the narrow windows. To add to that, Jia saw Crane descend from the skies once more, clawed feet outstretched to rip away the moorings holding another of the oil cauldrons in place—and then Shen was flipping that one over, too, spilling even more of the boiling liquid to pour down into the chimney-like depths of the tower. _Yes! If we can hold Shou off just a bit longer...or better yet, take him out of the fight…_

Another roar of outrage jerked her head back again, just in time for her to see Shou on his feet again, in the middle of bringing one knee up to try and knock the lion back; but with a speed belied by his muscular bulk, Achal brought his own foot up and immediately pressed Shou's knee back down again. Letting his weight carry him forward, the monk slammed into the wolf's body, almost knocking him back; he lost his grip on Shou's sword-wielding arm, but there was only a moment for it to descend before the lion succeeded in hooking his free arm around its elbow, jerking it out of alignment.

For a moment, as Shou let out a scream of anger and pain to ring over the mesa, she thought Achal had dislocated it—but then she realized the lion had locked the joint in place, and at an extremely unnatural angle. She winced. _It might've been better if he **had** dislocated it; that's going to hurt for days once it's unlocked...worse the longer it's kept like that. _

Fighting admirably through the agony, though, Shou again brought one leg up to kick at Achal. The lion slammed the butt of his walking stick repeatedly into Shou's face and torso, then used his good shoulder to grasp the wolf for another duck and throw over onto his back...but with a savage grin and a dark glitter in his eyes, the warlord sprang up, unwinded, and threw a series of brutal punches in rapid succession. The first attack missed and only earned him a harder clamp-down on his arm, but the second one the lion could not dodge, nor the third and fourth...

Soon enough the monk had let go of the wolf's arm, falling back and holding his now-bloodied nose and face as he began to sink to his knees in the dirt. And while his arm remained unnaturally locked in place, Shou was now free to take the sword in his good paw...and lift it for what would surely be a killing blow. _No!_

Jia's own paw was reaching for a sai instinctively—even as Mei leaped again into action quite literally over the warlord's head. At the peak of her leap, she inverted and brought her sword down hard, which Shou only just managed to cross-block with his other gauntlet. The force of the blow on his bad arm made him howl again in pain; the former assassin didn't think that arm would be of much use anymore in the battle.

Meanwhile, Mei had landed between Achal and Shou, with all the adroitness and gentility of a cherry blossom—but the hardness in her brown eyes testified to the steel within. And as impressive as Achal's fighting had been, Jia could also see a protective look in her sister's eyes, one that said she did not wish to take any more chances with the lion in his condition. Still, Jia bit her lip. _I don't want to take any chances with you either, sis!_

Somehow Shou managed an evil smirk, and without warning kicked some of the dust up skillfully into Mei's face. It was a petty return for her light trick, but that look told Jia all she had to know about how smugly satisfied it made him—and obviously, it would give him a better advantage. Just as quickly, though, Mei closed her eyes before the gritty cloud could hit...and her ears were strong, as Jia had found out in many sparring sessions with her sister. Thinking her weakened, the wolf slashed several times with his blade, but Mei held them each back, still with her eyes closed. Shou stared in consternation, for of course he had no way of knowing that the mountain cat often practiced blindfolded to keep all her senses sharp as her weapons.

Finally, in pure frustration, their opponent threw all caution to the wind, charging her recklessly—obviously intending to knock her off balance, but with the dust already settling, she was again opening her eyes to see him coming, and with a smirk of her own she lunged sideways. Their blades met once more...grinding, scraping...but as the wolf's greater weight and strength were bending her backwards, Achal (who was still kneeling beside her) suddenly put up a great paw to support her back to keep her from falling.

Shou growled angrily. "Damn you, monk! Will you just bleed to death already!"

The lion smiled faintly. "Did you really think an _ek-hath bhajanh_ would go down that easily?"

For a moment the warlord's eyes widened as he recognized the terms used; then he snarled again. "I still cannot believe one such as you would defend Tai Lung."

"I defend all of life as sacred," Achal intoned reverently, yet matter-of-factly. "As Master Oogway did. As he wanted all in the Valley of Peace to do and believe. Like your father. Like you."

" _No!_ " Shou roared, but his expression was agonized and conflicted, filled as much with anguish and desperation as fury or hate. "There has to be a line that cannot be crossed...a time when you forfeit that right by your actions."

"And you have crossed it," the monk observed sadly...yet there was still hope and sympathy in his gaze. "That only makes your soul all the more in need of salvation, just as Tai Lung's was. Crossing it means one must be punished. As he was. As you shall be. But it does not mean one has become worthless, able to be cast aside and ignored without a moment's thought. He could be saved; he has been. So can you, my son. Please…"

The words, their tone...they were getting to him. Shou curled his lip back; his cheek twitched; his lone good limb trembled. She knew he was about to break, one way or the other, make a choice.

Suddenly he did—even with his other arm still partly frozen, the wolf was able to bring it back into play, and with its added pressure he was slowly pushing his blade towards Mei's face, even as she was pushing back, the two of them locked in an impasse. "I'm going to end this now," Shou said to the mountain cat as he focused on her instead, with a cold anger now and an utterly certain conviction; oddly, her sister looked totally collected, even as her strength was failing under his. A sense of impending dread suddenly spilled into Jia's stomach.

"Wrong," Mei answered calmly. " _I_ am."

Jia saw a blur of beige fur as her free paw formed a fist and shoved at the warlord's solar plexus—not a hard blow at all, really, but immediately after that the wolf doubled over as if a cannonball had slammed into his gut. And then he was flying through the air.

It took her a few moments to realize the truth, to see the look of concentration on Mei's face, see the gathering of spiritual force in the air and the burning of a strange light around her paw—just as Tao had summoned above Long Shi's flagship, only in a much smaller (but also more concentrated) amount and green where the fox's had been blue. Even as Shou landed in a battered, bruised heap and was struggling to rise, disbelief and wrath twisting his ravaged face, she was sending out a second burst of _chi_...then a third. Each one sent the wolf tumbling back, looking more and more like a pathetic scarecrow rather than a vicious invader—and soon he was less than a yard from the mesa's edge.

Jia looked beyond him...and then she was moving again, heedless of the possibly-traitorous dhole, Achal's crumpled form, anything but the need to get there in time. "Sis, _no!_ "

But time seemed to be moving in slow motion for her. The energy was coruscating, building, swirling and crackling around Mei's paw. Beyond her, however, the snow leopardess could see down over the drop-off to the desert plain below where the armies still struggled. She could see the Juggernaut, its wood apparently quite flammable thanks to tar or other sealants, since it had become a veritable torch as the gunpowder and burning oil ignited within it. She could see Crane spiraling down from above, lobbing at least five of the bombs they had employed in Haojing to fall straight and true toward a hole that had been blown in the siege engine's highest roof.

The avian swooped down right afterward, claws outstretched, and in a daring feat that proved just how strong he actually was he latched onto General Jiao's shoulders and hoisted the tiger up and away to safety, clear of the balcony before the grenades would strike. The striped feline made a signaling gesture even as he was borne away.

Below, Storming Ox nodded firmly, glanced at each of his companions, and the three charged forward as one. The Cloud Hammer and the Unstoppable Force. Three massive horns aimed straight and true. The Lashing Tail, and an Impenetrable Hide that would resist all damage whether from flames or the solid structure he was ramming.

They all came together at the base of the Juggernaut, crashing into it in the weak point between its wheels that Ox had discerned, passing right on through it and then dividing to smash out each of the other three sides—splintering the wood into kindling and taking away all the support needed to hold the siege tower upright...at the same time Crane's bombs reached their targets.

Later Jia would swear the sound had destroyed her hearing entirely. It certainly shook the entire region as if a volcanic eruption had taken place—sand dunes toppled and were sent billowing back into the desert, the Flaming Mountains trembled from base to peaks until she was sure the grottoes would collapse, and the ground quaked in endless, violent rumbles. Cache upon cache of firearms and gunpowder ignited, the tower became a pillar of fire, and then the Juggernaut exploded—sending into panicked flight all those in both armies who were aware of the danger and could escape in time.

But the force of the detonation also sent a shock wave out into the mesa itself...and slowly, horrifyingly, she could see a sheer section of the sandstone bluff breaking away from the rest, tumbling down into the desert in a billowing cloud of dust, dirt, and sand. Only a few feet behind Shou Feng's trembling form. And by then, it was far too late for her sister to pull back, even if she'd wanted to.

The last _chi_ blast struck the wolf in the chest—and then he was flying right over the edge, disappearing into the rising clouds of dust and smoke, the uncontrolled inferno blazing up from the remnants of his secret weapon…

She didn't know if it was the stinging embers and ash filling the air, or something much deeper, but it wasn't long before Jia was staring dully, hollowly, through a film of thickening tears. Nevertheless, she forced herself to move—of course now, when it no longer mattered, everything seemed to move at the right speed again—until she was as close as she dared get to the mesa's new cliffside, much more jagged, uneven, and treacherous than it had been before. Vaguely she was aware of Mei somewhere to her right and behind her, of how she, too, was now overwhelmed by regret and anguish. But she only had eyes for the ruins.

The roadway, the desert, the foot of the mesa—all of it was now a blackened mass of splintered, smoldering wood, melted metal, countless crumpled bodies (where she could see them), and most of all, layer upon layer of shattered rock. Beyond the crumbling base of the Juggernaut she could see men moving—mercenaries fleeing back toward the road to Turfan and, Shang Ti willing, Gaochang Pass and the path that would take them back to the steppes. Others were still desperately in combat with the Imperial Army, or else surrendering; and the empire's forces were themselves withdrawing to a safer distance—some heading back to Bezeklik, the rest milling about in some confusion. She could see Shen's fur and Crane's feathers shining in the sun among the soldiers, Rhino's robes and Croc's hide bright alongside Ox's darker blue fur. The fact they had all survived should have pleased her. And yet...and yet…

She closed her eyes, shoulders shaking, and hung her head in sorrow and in shame.

A noise, pebbles and dirt and other detritus being dislodged. A scrabbling sound. And...something that sounded like desperate, panicked breathing.

Jia's eyes popped open—and then she was moving again, diving over the edge of the cliff.

She could hear Mei cry out behind her, but all she had in her focus was the broken ledge that jutted out from the mesa's side, not five feet below where she'd been standing. And there, holding on for dear life at a lip of rock that was disintegrating even as she watched, was a canine paw.

Landing flat on her stomach on the ledge, the snow leopardess let out a sob—of relief, fear, and some emotion she couldn't put a name to. Her paws wrapped around his just before it would have slipped free of its support entirely, and she braced her knees against the stone to hold his weight. Adrenaline and determination were stronger than muscle, armor, and gravity in that moment, and Wu Jia looked down into the face of Shou Feng as she held on—refusing to let him fall.

How long they remained like that, staring into each other's eyes, she didn't know. But eventually, after his panting had subsided (but panic was still in his heaving chest and trembling jaw), the warlord managed to speak a few words.

"Let me go."

" _No_."

"Why not? Isn't this what you wanted?" His booted feet scraped at the side of the ledge.

"We came to stop you, not to kill you."

"Your Holy One...and that Kunlun Shan cat...beg to differ, I think."

Jia shook her head firmly. "Things just...got carried away. On all sides, by everybody. But we still have a chance to fix that now."

"Why?" he demanded again. There were so many conflicting impulses in his voice—contempt and disdain, but also pain, confusion, despair. " _Why_ would you want to, after what I nearly did to your friends...to China...to that spotted killer you seem to treasure so highly?" His words when he spoke of Tai Lung weren't angry or hateful now...just bitter, listless, and very tired.

_Because you don't get that easy of an out_ , she almost retorted. But when she looked over the drop-off again, it wasn't Shou Feng she saw.

It was her father's face. Desperate, pleading, full of betrayal...and loneliness.

"Because this time, I'm going to save _one_ of you." Even as he was furrowing his brow at her cryptic words, she went on...more confident, sure of her choice, a warmth filling her heart that she hoped he would hear in her voice. "Because if I, one of the notorious Wu Sisters, can get the chance to change, to do good, then so can you." His eyes widened in shock and disbelief as she finally revealed her identity to him, but she didn't let it sink in further, didn't let him question it. "And because even after everything that's happened to you, and all you've done, you don't want to die either."

"Would you care to wager on that?"

"Yes," she said with a smile. "You grabbed on when you fell; you didn't have to do that. And guess what? You only had one arm you could do it with, thanks to that joint-lock. Your sword arm." She paused significantly. "You dropped your sword so you could save yourself. I think...that says everything. Don't you?"

Tears stood in those golden eyes filled with suffering and madness, and so much pain...but slowly, very slowly, he managed a tiny smile of his own. "Perhaps...perhaps I was mistaken."

And then she felt Mei Ling's presence at her side, her sister's paws joining hers to latch on and begin hoisting Shou Feng up to safety...and she knew, somehow, it would be all right.

* * *

It took the rest of the day before matters were finally resolved as peacefully as could be mustered under the circumstances. As Jia had observed, the majority of Shou's army (that is, the part that wasn't wiped out by the explosion of the Juggernaut) had fled—out of fear and self-preservation, being demoralized by the siege engine's destruction, or simply guessing which way the wind was blowing and cutting their losses. Another large portion surrendered for the same reasons, out of loyalty to Shou and a desire to learn (and even share) his fate, or hoping for merciful treatment in general.

The rest fell back behind the fortification wall they'd built across the road, concealing themselves in the ruins of Huozhou and refusing to come out until their warlord told them otherwise—or until they were killed to the last man. With so much of the invasion force removed one way or another, and with its leader in no shape or mindset to continue on his course, Shen and Xiaozhi chose to be magnanimous, leaving them be until Shou could be persuaded to meet with them and, hopefully, order a general surrender. (Croc and especially Ox had felt otherwise, but naturally they were overruled.)

So as the sun was beginning to set, its fiery rays mixing with the still-smoldering wreckage of the Juggernaut to further bathe the mountains in ruddy hues, the Kung Fu Council and their general were finally able to pick their way up the ledges of the mesa (the eastern slope hadn't been affected by the blast, thankfully) and join the others. But although the more surly members seemed ready to launch into a punitive attack, Thundering Rhino again restrained them...and both he and Shen kept them all standing off to the side, their sober gazes directed at the once-crazed and violent warlord who now stayed docile and unthreatening among them.

Kneeling in the ocher soil and sand of the mesa tabletop, the wolf was so changed Jia could barely recognize him. Utterly broken by the loss of his weapon and his army, and his motivation gutted by his brush with death and a mercy he still clearly found inexplicable, Shou Feng was battered, bloody, and bruised, his fur disheveled, his _biànfú_ ripped in a number of places; he clutched his arm with his other paw, the joint-lock's effects still lingering even after Achal removed it. His dhole subordinate sat beside him—Jia couldn't help but feel relieved and vindicated that her trust had not been misplaced, that he had given her the chance to intervene rather than attack her once her back was turned—and the snow leopardess herself was at the canine's other side.

"I never wanted it to turn out like this," he mumbled, shoulders slumped. "Not any of it."

"I know. We can't see where our actions will lead us...or what the consequences will be."

Shou shuddered, wrapped his arm tighter around his body. "I only wanted him to pay. To feel what I felt. To know the anguish of my loss, and to ensure nothing like his actions on that day would evermore recur." He looked up as Achal, leaning heavily on his walking stick and with his other arm thrust through his robe for medical reasons now rather than religious, limped over to them. "But you were right. I became just like him, or worse. It all seemed to make so much sense."

"It always does," the lion said gently. "That is always how it begins. But it never ends there."

"I just…" He swallowed, licked his lips. "I only wanted to make a difference. Make the world a better place, after what I'd been through, the suffering he caused…"

Achal nodded slowly. "I was the same way, once. Just a boy about your age, actually, or even younger. A boy who wanted to change the world, change his father. But I changed nothing. Because the world can only be changed when you first change yourself—and then it is _your_ world only, where you decide whom you will be, and how you will live so as to change others."

As they were speaking, Jia had finally reached back to her pack once again and removed the letter scroll from Tai Lung. She was hoping she wasn't making a mistake—she thought, after all that had happened, how the snow leopard had reacted to this whole situation and especially how he had comported himself as they were leaving the Valley, that she knew what the missive would contain. But she wasn't sure...yet she also couldn't hold it back, either.

When she broke open the seal, removed the cap, and unrolled the parchment that she drew from within, she almost couldn't look at it. Once she had carefully taken her time to scan the hanzi characters, however, Jia relaxed and sat back on her heels...smiling slowly and warmly to herself. _I knew I was right to believe in him._ Exchanging a wordless glance with Mei, then with Crane who stood a silent sentinel between her and the Council, she turned back to Shou and held the letter up. "Maybe this will help," she announced—and then, with enough volume that all near her could hear it, she began to read aloud.

"Shou Feng, I know this will not be what you wish to hear, especially from me—that in fact you would far rather I stood before you so you could tear me apart, in more ways than one. But that would have helped neither of us. This way, there is at least a chance that you will listen, and that is needed for all our sakes. Especially mine.

"I remember your father, though I do not recall every person that I killed. Sometimes I wish I could...other times, I am glad I cannot—I spent twenty years in paralysis with nothing but the thoughts of what I did in my head. Once I read his name, though, I remembered him...and you. You were not the only orphan I created on that day. And yes, I was once happy for it on some level. I was an orphan myself, after all, and I was not treated well for it. It felt good to know that others in the so-called Valley of Peace would understand what it was like for a change. A sentiment I am certain you currently adhere to with every fiber of your being.

"Why did I do it? That is what everyone always wants to know. I doubt I can help you to understand...but perhaps you will after all. I had dedicated my entire life to training, you see. There were fewer selfish diversions than there are lotuses in the desert—let us say the word 'indulgence' was not in Master Shifu's vocabulary. Every day was dedicated to one thing: kung fu...and that was what I was raised to consider normal. It was what I believed was true, and right.

"I did not bemoan the things most people take for granted which I did not receive, in fact I took pride in it, for I had sworn to become the best and the strongest, to be what my father wished me to be, and such trivialities would interfere with that. I vowed my life to the protection of this country, and that was all that mattered.

"I was groomed above all to be the Dragon Warrior...so when I was denied, I had nothing. All my years of service meant nothing to anyone. After all the broken bones, the injuries, the endless hours of training and studying beyond the endurance of all others, I was nothing and unappreciated. At that point, all I wished to do was drown myself in alcohol, another thing I had never tried before...but unfortunately for everyone, one drunkard decided it would be entertaining to mock the rejected orphan—and the rest is history.

"I had many years after that in utter isolation, save for the happy company of Commander Vachir and the Anvil he decided to batter me senseless against. I was tortured for all of that time: physically, mentally, in every way it is possible to be—and if not for that damn shell restraint, I suspect Master Mantis is correct and I would have been raped on a daily basis as well. I had plenty of time to realize how wrong I was, how I had ruined my life, to feel sorry for it and for myself. Yet after five years of crying every night for Shifu, the only father I had ever known, I went quiet. And even though I knew, secretly, who was truly to blame, all my need for revenge consumed me, gave me a focus for twenty years that would let me ignore and hide from my sins.

"Finally I escaped. I killed so many of my jailers—both those who would have violated me and the honorable warriors who were only doing their duty to the empire—and came back to the Valley to claim what was mine. There I found that like so much else in my life, everything I had thought of myself and my destiny was a lie, or else a complete misunderstanding of who I was and meant to be. The true Dragon Warrior turned out to be my savior, the one who helped me to see the light, and suddenly all my plotting was completely empty, as was my hatred. That's why he's my brother now. I hope I will one day be worthy of his love and devotion.

"Without hubris or vanity, I think I can safely say that there are none who understand sacrifice and suffering as I do. Though you will likely not believe it, I know quite well what true remorse is, Shou Feng. But none of that excuses what I did, to you and to so many others, does it? Your father is still dead, and nothing I can say or do can ever bring him back, or undo your own suffering. I regret that more than I can put into words...after all, whatever I may have thought of your father, in the end he died doing what _I_ should have done—protecting, making certain that even if it cost him his life, no others would have to come to harm at my paws.

"I have to live with that until my dying day. I can never forget that I was brought up by some of the wisest men with the best of intentions, and yet they still shaped me into the sort of man who could become a mass killer. That lesson is more important than any other contained in a scroll of kung fu. It is a lesson that will haunt me, guide me, and ensure there will always be a way to pull me back from the brink, save me from myself, should I ever stray from the path again.

"So you see...as much as it would please you to punish me, revile me, and eventually slay me, that not only won't bring your father back—it is completely redundant. Because there is absolutely nothing you could do to me that has not already been done. By others, and especially by myself. All that _can_ be done is for me to work from now on, with both Po and the Furious Five at my side, to balance the death and suffering I caused by striving always to maintain the peace, to shelter and promote life.

"I leave you then with one last thing, besides an apology that is as sincere as it is meaningless. What I had to confront, consider, and finally accept, once I admitted it to be true. What can be justified in the name of pride and vengeance...and does it not, in the end, make you as much a monster as the one you hound and chase? If this scourge you seek were to be erased from the earth, who would be happy you did it? All those left from villages you assailed? I'm altogether sure they feel you could have spared them in the process.

"I was a man who did much good before and after my rampage, and I only ever went on the one. You have gone on many. I had a stalwart reputation before my fall. Your reputation has never been sung with love. Action figures of me were confiscated, destroyed, or otherwise disposed of after what I did...but no one fashioned any of you in the first place.

"Remember this, remember what have you done and have not...what I have done, and not. I pray for you, Shou Feng, that you do not become me. But if you do, or are in danger of it...then there will always be hope for your redemption. There was for mine, however much no one believed it at first, least of all myself.

"Tai Lung of Hubei, Master of the Jade Palace."

For a very long time, the windswept mesa was silent, its baking rock and sand settling into the lonely cold of the desert night. Jia glanced over her shoulder again...saw that Crane had doffed his hat, Rhino had deeply bowed his head, and to her satisfaction Croc and especially Ox looked both mortified and deeply moved. Then she looked back to Shou, who had not moved one inch from his place of penitence. Gazing at his haggard face, weighted down with so much shame, sorrow, and awe, and a definite stunned shock at hearing some of his own words from earlier repeated back to him, she found herself unable to resist lightening the mood, just a tiny bit.

"Tai Tai left out the part about that _chi_ wizard who was possessing people and stoking their worst emotions, of course." She smiled lopsidedly. "Didn't want to look like he was making excuses for himself, I guess. He's right, of course, but that kinda does put his actions in a new light, don't you think?"

"He _also_ forgot to mention that Chao had been feeding Tai negativity for years before that, and all the years after it, too, until Po finally knocked it out of him with the Wuxi Finger Hold," Mei Ling chimed in.

"And," Crane spoke up at last in a solemn voice, "that Chao had done the same thing to Commander Vachir, until he could take him over, make him slaughter scores of innocents just so he could hunt down a man who...wasn't hurting anyone anymore. Until he was as much a homicidal maniac as Tai Lung was. Just saying."

Out of the corner of her eye, Jia saw both Shen and Croc looking somber; the tiger had removed his helmet in respect for a great warrior taken from the empire so heinously, and from the guilt on the reptile's face, she was sure he knew exactly how easy it was to let yourself fall into dishonorable actions and baser motives.

By contrast, Ox was glowering darkly, arms crossed tightly over his broad chest; whether this was meant for Crane because he had made such a terrible accusation, Vachir for having let himself be so corrupted, or Chao for having done it, she wasn't certain. But since Rhino only hung his head in deep melancholy with an ache of loss in his eyes, and Ox had been his closest friend and student until Croc came along, she suspected he'd been told the truth by Xiaozhi before now, and it was the falcon who was the target of his ire. He hadn't reacted with surprise when they'd spoken of Vachir back in the caves, after all.

Shou, meanwhile, still hadn't moved a muscle, nor had his expression changed; if anything he seemed even more bitter and morose at hearing further confirmation of the truth he had never learned—or worse, had deliberately cast aside as a lie simply because it contradicted his long-held hatreds. Finally he spoke again, and when he did so, all the menace seemed to have drained out of him—for the first time he seemed to both look and feel his young age as he looked from one face to the next, seeking...absolution? Faith? Simple understanding of where he'd been coming from, how he had gone wrong?

"I...I don't know what to say. Like Tai Lung, I don't believe a simple 'I'm sorry' can possibly cover it. There's so much I still don't comprehend...I don't know if I ever will. But I do know this: I have done wrong, grievous wrong to all of you, to China and its people. You stopped me before I could go too far, lay waste to every province between here and the Valley of Peace, and for that...I am grateful. You were right," and here he flicked his eyes to Achal. "In trying to avenge my father, I became something he would never recognize...or honor."

Looking to Shen and the Council, he said quietly, "Those of my men who remain...your prisoners, and the ones still holding out in Huozhou...I will send them a message, telling them to stand down, release the hostages, and return to the west where I found them. If they remain resistant, I will speak to them personally." A very tiny smile, with only a flicker of humor to it, turned up the corners of his lips.

"I do after all owe them their pay...and since I rather think I won't be needing my wealth anymore, I can distribute it to them for their troubles, to encourage their departure. If any is left after that, I will give it freely to the Emperor's coffers, to aid in rebuilding the towns and villages I attacked, replanting the fields...restoring as much as can be saved. And then…"

Slowly he looked back to the monk, contrition and worry and uncertainty twisting his features. "Then, I am at a loss what I shall do. I have no life anymore, nothing to direct me, so I must find something new to replace it. Vengeance and hate are not the answers. I...I must atone, somehow. But again like Tai Lung, I think I shall be doing so for the rest of my life. A neverending quest."

The lion, who had been gradually regaining his energies as they conversed and now seemed heartier and stronger than ever despite still being tightly bandaged, approached the last few feet and gazed down at the wolf. His expression was indescribable, but Jia could at least tell that despite the animosity there had been between them during their struggle—up until its last moments—none of it was in evidence now...only encouragement, hope, and renewed purpose.

"Neverending, yes. But also never futile, my son. There is nothing futile in the seeking of redemption. No matter how long it takes...no matter if the goal is never achieved...simply pursuing it at all, recognizing its worth and striving against the temptations and darkness to be found in the world we cling to, is more than sufficient. It is how we earn our karma, and eventually find Enlightenment...and it will accomplish many great deeds, effect more change in the heart than you can possibly know, in the course of your journey."

Reaching down, he rested his good paw on Shou's shoulder. The former warlord flinched, but did not pull away. "If you would permit me: how does it sound if I take you on as my acolyte and disciple? As you might have guessed from our...encounter, I have yet to find the serenity and wisdom which comes with breaking free of all attachments; as much as my soul yearns for peace and holiness, my heart and body have other passions, weaknesses I must always combat. Perhaps if we travel and train as companions, we can find what we seek together?"

This was a possibility none of them had even considered, especially Jia...but the more she thought about it, the better it made her feel. It kept Shou away from the man who had brought him such pain, as well as any who might seek recrimination against him; it kept any of his men from mistakenly rallying behind him for renewed hostilities; it meant the Emperor could rest easy, and those who had fought here could put the wolf out of their minds without feeling guilt and resentment, or being blamed by the folk of Xinjiang. If Shou were not as repentant as he seemed, or if his moods waxed and waned, Achal could easily handle him...and if he were, she could think of no better to help their former enemy.

Ox seemed to be of the same opinion. Looking back and forth between the kneeling warrior and the monk who was offering him clemency and a new life, the bovine seemed to lose some of the suspicion and distrust he had been carrying, instead huffing out a breath that steamed in the cooling desert air before he rumbled, softly, "I think you'd do well to follow your second's example, there. He's served you well, looks like, and now you've got a chance to serve someone else—the very man who saved you, who's done so much for us all today. It's a better deal than you'd get anywhere else, I can tell you that much."

At his side, Croc added with slow emphasis, "Service is why we're all here, one way or another. From what Tai Lung said, your father served too. Maybe you gotta do like he did, if you want to find your way back to where you should have been."

For several long moments, the wolf stared at the kung fu masters, then at Achal...before he managed a smile that was much more genuine, and more hopeful, than she had ever thought she could see from him. Nodding slowly, he finally said softly, "I cannot believe, after all that I said and did to you, that you would do this for me...but then you approached me in good faith, and continually offered me chances no matter how I threw them carelessly in your face, right up until I forced your paw. Truly only someone such as you could be so forgiving...and it would be an honor to join you on the Path, Holy One."

A paw suddenly rested on his other shoulder, and Jia wasn't surprised to see it was the dhole. "If that is your wish, sir, may I join you as well?"

"Itultarak," Shou said...his tone wondering and warm, even a bit awed. "I do not know what I did to earn your loyalty. I certainly do not deserve it. But I would dearly love it if you did accompany me, if it is condoned by Brother…?" He trailed off and looked embarrassed. _Of course, Achal never did introduce himself. We were all kind of busy._

"Achal," the lion said with a smile. "But you may call me brother...or simply friend." To the dhole he added, "Are you certain? I'm glad you wish to stay by his side, but this path will be difficult, and I will not be any easier on you than I will on him, or myself."

Itultarak smirked. "Life on the steppes is already a trial, sir. What is one more? Besides, your faith interests me. I believe I could learn a great deal from it—that many could."

"Very well then, it is agreed." And Achal reached down, took Shou's paw, and hauled him to his feet. "Go, fulfill your bargain with the Council, see to your men. Then we shall see what we can accomplish tonight before we plan for the morrow. You can begin, however, by surrendering your clothes and all unnecessary possessions—they are of a former life now, one you are leaving behind—and by cutting your hair. I'm certain someone in camp can manage that. I do think some meditation is in order as well. I will instruct you shortly, but for now, ask Rhino what he can tell you about the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha…"

As the wolf moved off with the gathered kung fu masters—hesitantly, but directly, and with his back straighter than it had been—and Itultarak accompanied him, both of them looking rather pensive and introspective at what they had been told, Jia moved up beside Achal. "I can't believe it. You did it. You really did it."

"Well, it is only the beginning," the other cat said modestly. "There is harsh, long, unforgiving work ahead. He only came to it in the end because we destroyed his weapon, drained him of his rage and hate. And because of your example, my dear." He smiled warmly and took her into his embrace.

For quite some time she held him close, and not because she enjoyed touching a muscular man or inhaling his rich, deep musk. When she looked up at him at last, she could barely see his face through her brimming tears. "We've barely met...I don't even really know you...but I'm going to miss you so much. You've helped us all, in more ways than you know."

The lion brushed away her tears, cupped her chin gently as a father would his cub; remembering how Xuan used to do the same, she trembled. "Many cross paths in this life, and however short their time together, it can often change the entire course of the river's flow. You recognize this, and I am glad to have offered what little I could to make a difference. There is no shame in the sadness of parting, but dry your tears: I am certain we will see each other again." He paused, then grinned cheekily. "If nothing else, I do have an old Tai Lung action figure I happened to pick up in my travels. I don't suppose the master himself would consent to autograph it for a poor monk?"

Jia burst out laughing, her tears swiftly becoming ones of mirth.

When her giggles had subsided, she punched Achal playfully in his good shoulder and shook her head. "Knowing Tai Tai, he probably would. But once he hears of how you aided us, I think he'll want a lot more. I mean, that fighting you were doing—that was totally amazing! The big guy's gonna want to know all about it, probably learn it from you if he can. I wouldn't mind picking up a few pointers myself."

For a moment she saw a look of envy cross the lion's blocky face, and she wondered if Achal was more of a fan of Tai Lung than she'd realized. But then he simply smiled and shrugged. "Perhaps that could be arranged. I do believe my training would appeal to him, and the Lords Bhima and Jambavan always look with favor on the promulgation of their ways. Using my great strength, but only to achieve submission rather than injury or death, seemed the proper course."

Letting out a soft grunt under his breath, he gripped briefly at his wounded arm and shoulder. "But even that strength can only handle so much, I am afraid. I must see to my new charges, of course, but first I'll need to ask Shen for the most competent combat medic among his staff, as I do believe I will be needing stitches...and then a bath is in order as well...and some much-needed rest…" He started to turn away, in the direction of the tiger and the others; she could already see Master Ox, glancing back toward them, had noticed his condition and was gesturing insistently toward someone among the ranks waiting ahead of them near the mesa's rim.

But Achal also put his arm around her shoulders as he did so, and she didn't think it was simply for support. "And what of you?" He peered beseechingly into her face. "Will you be well? Did you find what you were seeking?"

Jia frowned a bit, but then as she realized what he was referring to, she caught her breath. "Yes. Yes, I think I did." Glancing to where her sister and Crane waited, she lifted her chin decisively. "If you'll excuse me."

She could feel his approval radiating behind her as she went, but she only had eyes for Mei and Jien. When she reached them, she wasted no time in making her wishes known, either. Reaching out to take the mountain cat's paws in hers, she kept her voice low but insistent. "I know we just got through a really rough time...physically, mentally, emotionally...not to mention all that traveling. But as soon as we're all rested up, there's somewhere I need you to take me."

Mei gave her a penetrating look. "Fēng Diān?"

The ex-Wu Sister shuddered a bit. "No. At least...not yet. I told you before, I haven't forgiven Xiu, and I don't know if I ever can. Even if I could, it's not like she wouldn't just spit in my face and laugh mockingly for thinking she even _needs_ forgiveness...because she doesn't regret a single thing she's done. But...I do pity her, now, and there was more to her than I want to admit. And I regret that I couldn't save her, the way Baba wanted us to. Maybe someday, somehow…" She shook her head. "No, I'm not ready to forgive her. But I am ready to forgive myself."

"What do you mean?" Mei's tone was leading, probing; she had to know what Jia was getting at. But there was gentleness in her words, as if she simply wanted her sister to tell her herself...knew she needed to say it.

Jia took another deep breath. She'd visit Shandong eventually, once they'd returned to the Valley to stay and she had confessed her feelings to Po as she'd promised herself; Chun needed to know, to hear what had happened, what had changed in her heart, that she remembered the few good times there had been. It would be a start, a way to reconcile, the last piece of the only family she had left brought back into the fold. It would help save Chun, too, she hoped. But first…

"Will you take me back to Kunlun Shan, _rénmèimèi_? I...I need to see Baba's grave."

The beige feline smiled, glancing at Crane; immediately they both took her into their mutual embrace. "Nothing would please me more."

* * *

_~One month later~_

Sinking down at the edge of the grassy valley, tucked deep within Kunlun Shan, where Xu Mei's homestead and many other houses and villages perched upon the ledges and plateaus of the mountain range, Jia found her paw moving unerringly to pull away the moss, creepers, and flowers which covered the ground and grew up onto the hanzi-carved stone marking Wu Xuan's grave.

Larger than many others in this region's cemetery (for aside from his status as an Imperial bodyguard, the snow leopard had always been revered and admired by his entire community), it had been set partially into the hillside as was the custom, standing atop an altar stone with enough space for vases of flowers and bowls of food, as well as several slots for incense and joss paper to be lit and burned. Of course it wasn't as large and elaborate as it would have been had he been buried in Beijing, but the simplicity appealed to her, and the stone was still well-crafted and had ledges set beside it to suggest the curves of an armchair.

"Sorry about the condition," Mei murmured apologetically behind her. "We were on our way to Shanghai at _Qingming_ , and I guess Mom hasn't made it home yet to do the cleaning."

"It's all right," she replied brightly. "It just means we can do our duty now. The time of year doesn't matter as long as it gets done...by the right people, with the right devotion in their hearts."

As she suited actions to words and continued cleaning the gravestone, Mei came up beside her and placed a bunch of fresh, vibrant flowers in the vase—chrysanthemums, hydrangea, and orchids—then filled the bowl with noodles steeped in onions and ginseng, steamed buns and huang fish, and tender mushrooms...one of Xuan's favorite dishes. Ripping away the last of the moss and vines, she fingered the chiseled characters in the right-hand column that indicated his date of birth and age, then his date of death on the left-hand side. "I hope you're right," she said sadly. "I mean, I know he'd never become a hungry ghost over it, or hold it against us considering what was keeping us away. But he deserves so much...better than we could give him…"

Jia turned and took her paw, squeezing it tightly until her sister looked at her. It was strange, after so many times the mountain cat had insisted Xuan was happy and at rest, that he had forgiven her and they were worthy bearers of his lineage, that now she was the one needing reassurance. But she understood; the encounter with Shou Feng and everything it had brought to the surface—in emotions, memories, and difficult moral choices—would have had her, too, second-guessing herself. Especially after their debate about Xiu.

"I know I am," she said firmly. "I mean, we made sure the one who killed him was punished for it, so he can be at peace. But we've also been living out the lessons he taught us. You've been an honorable warrior, a defender of the good guys, a badass master of the scrolls making sure anyone who tries to break the peace doesn't know what hit them. And now I get to do it too...what I've always wanted to do in my heart, and what he always hoped I could do if I ever got free of Qing."

She swallowed against the lump in her throat. "If he wasn't at rest before, it was because he was waiting to tell Tai Tai about his family. Or because we were still apart, the rift in our family hadn't been healed. Now, that's all changed. Even if we couldn't save Xiu, we can at least try to forgive her. We can let Chun know there's still hope for her, too, once she's done her time. Most of all, though, we've got each other, Xu Mei, Jien...and we're still going to keep living our lives by his code. I think that's more than enough. Any onus he has, it's been abated. He'll be able to move on now. Don't you think?"

Mei gazed at her with tears running through her cheek fur, but she was smiling and her paw gripped Jia's like an acupressure cuff. The wind rose around them, seeming refreshing and brisk rather than freezing or stale, caressing them like a mother's tender paw, carrying with it the scents of the valley, of hearth fires and warm cooked meals...of home.

And then another voice spoke behind her, and her heart nearly stopped, even as she had been praying with every ounce of willpower for it to happen, even expecting it on some level.

"You know, I think you're onto something there. In fact I came to tell you goodbye, before I go to see the Lords of Death."

She turned, even as she heard and felt Mei hurriedly doing the same. There he was, just the way Tai Lung had described him—a luminous figure of shining golden light, handsome and youthful as he'd been when he first came to see her and her sisters in the Himalayas, all those years ago. But although there was still that faint hint of naughty mischief in his glowing eyes, he looked...wise. Brave. Serene and, most of all, content.

As soon as both of them were looking at him, Wu Xuan broke out in a heartfelt, beaming smile—she'd seen him with such an expression before, in life, but it had been so very, very long ago. "Thank you, _lìngqianjin_. You've both done so very well. And I know you're going to be just fine. I'm so proud of you."

Jia felt her breath catch in her throat, heard the same sound from Mei's direction. "Oh, Baba…!"

Then they were suddenly bursting from their paralysis, leaping toward him to kneel at his feet, and even though he couldn't be touched, they did their best to embrace the air where he hovered—weeping for joy, basking in the warmth radiating from his spirit, losing themselves in his words as he told them how much he loved them, and they responded in kind.

Now...now, all would _truly_ be well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another exciting conclusion! First, to wrap up the final _Avatar: the Last Airbender_ shout-outs, there's Itultarak's fangirl comment; meanwhile, the bit where Jia disarmed him with her fan was another _Mulan_ shout-out, while Achal's "to an impartial observer" comment is a shout-out to one of my favorite lines from Joss Whedon's _Astonishing X-Men_ run (thank you, Kavita Rao!).
> 
> Achal's willingness to fearlessly allow himself to be killed is based off of a Japanese Zen Buddhist parable called "The Little Monk and the Samurai." His overall personality and attitude, however, are inspired by the character of Auron from _Final Fantasy X_ , if he were less cold and driven but still just as badass and iron-willed (I'm sure you noticed a few familiar quotes from him). The style of fighting he used, by the way, is a combination of Indian wrestling and martial arts: what he called himself is the term for an unarmed fighter (bhajanh, "one who fights with his arms") who fights with only "one hand" (ek-hath), and the schools he drew upon were _Bhimaseni_ and _Jambuvanti_.
> 
> To further show how Shou Feng and Tai Lung are Not So Different, the costume I gave him is one from _The Art of Kung Fu Panda_ originally intended for Tai Lung himself (yes, the same one which inspired Luna to create Xue Shan for "Memoirs") and the Juggernaut was a siege engine Tai was going to use when the plan was for him to have an army with which he'd invade the Valley. (The original design used snow leopard carvings and statues rather than wolves, obviously.) As for his final fate in the story, it is somewhat inspired by the tale of Ashoka, an Indian emperor who waged brutal wars of conquest, but after a final one more awful than the rest, he converted to Buddhism and spent the rest of his life trying to atone for it, spreading the teachings of Buddha to bring peace and happiness to his land instead. It's very likely Achal would have used him as an example in his teaching of Shou.
> 
> While I am well aware that both the _changdao_ and the _zhanmadao_ are cavalry swords, in a world where horses and bulls are anthropomorphized, I figured such blades could be used for hand-to-hand combat instead. Having a blade that long never stopped many an anime swordsman, after all! :P Lastly, _rénmèimèi_ means "you, my kind sister" while _lìngqianjin_ is a term of address for one's daughter that translates literally to "the beautiful one who is worth a thousand gold".

**Author's Note:**

> Text copyrighted 2015. Originally posted on Fanfic Dot Net. Enjoy!


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